It has been so long since I've been here. Months ago, I recall kwake inviting us to post on subject matter other than the passage being reviewed -- hoping that is still the policy, I'm taking the liberty of making an off topic post, though I almost feel as if the woman with the broken vessel will somehow tie in at the end.
I mentioned in the comments my need for feeling 'on the rails.' Crystal nodded assent in her comment and Meredith told us what she thought being on the rails meant (more of a watching from the sidelines).
When I speak of being "on the rails" or being "off the rails," I'm thinking of a train. Whats probably more accurate, I'm thinking of those amusement park ride cars, that follow the track at limited speed and when they veer off course, they bounce on the rail and continue on the path.
When I'm feeling on the rails, I feel like I'm where I'm supposed to be, going where I'm supposed to go. When I'm feeling off the rails, I feel scared and uncertain. I have no idea where I am or where I'm going, but, to my mind, I could be falling off a trestle hundreds of feet above the ground.
The rails aren't necessarily found in the ritual of a traditional church -- though I suppose many people find rails there. They aren't necessarily even found in a church. I suppose the rails indicates a certainty or a comfort that I have not fallen from God's grace, that I'm still on the path. I feel connected to God. I praise God, I'm happy.
I feel off the rails now because I don't think I'm where I should be -- individually or communally. I've lost my desire to really pray to God (though we pray at dinner and I lead bedtime prayers with my children), to study the Bible, or go to church. I still love God, but I don't feel connected. I feel lost. I feel I've gone off the rails and I want nothing more than to get back on them.
I imagine that a Quaker perspective might be different. The rails could be a confinement, the rails themselves can be a barrier to God. I can see why others might think this way, but I think its a personal thing. I think some people want rails, they might actually *need* rails and I think God knows this, I think maybe he even created us this way. Perhaps Quakerism represents a point of spiritual evolution -- I used to really think that. Now I think its just a different approach. I could be wrong, maybe its simply that I'm not there yet. But God speaks to us all in different times and different places -- he comes to us where we are.
Maybe my problem is that I'm not incorporating where I am with finding God. I'm looking for churches but I feel barriers because of my family (I have very young children, so some of those barriers have to do with non-spiritual reasons, like childcare). I enjoy Bible study but I find I don't have the time to do homework and I don't think God wants me screaming at my kids to quiet down so I can study the Bible, nor do I think he wants me to approach it with a weary heart and a tired mind, resenting it. I wonder if God has something else in mind for me right now.
But I still feel off the rails. I think it could be that I'm going through an intense period of questioning that followed several years of contentment. I fervently hope that my spiritual difficulties are growing pains. Perhaps I am being refined by fire. Or perhaps I am turning my insecurities into arrogance. At the very least, I think I'm growing in patience.
Perhaps my vessel is empty. Maybe I am mourning the loss of what was in it and haven't yet realized that what I've lost is less than what I've gained. Thats my attempt at a tie-in to the current topic.
6 comments:
Hi Marjorie. I'm glad you posted this :-)
I did know what you meant about the rails, though I was thinking of trains instead of roller coasters ... same thing, the railroad tracks are the place where I feel like I am indeed on "the path".
I wish I had good advice but I'm kind of in the same place you are. I'm hardly praying, having zero religious experience, I don't think Jesus/God like me anymore :-( The Jesuit who was helping me in the past is too busy to do so now. So, I'm sort of lost, I guess.
You said ...
Perhaps my vessel is empty. Maybe I am mourning the loss of what was in it and haven't yet realized that what I've lost is less than what I've gained.
... I don't think you've lost anything, your vessel isn't empty. If that were so, you wouldn't be posting this message and you wouldn't be sad. I sense there's still a connection, between God and you, between God and me.
Sometimes I feel like I'm on track and soemtimes I feel like I'm off track. When I'm on track it feels safer and more comfy. When I'm off track I learn more. But mostly I find out how to get back on track.
Thanks for this post, Marjorie. I see that I didn't have it right - Now I think I understand your situation a little more clearly. I appreciate your return to this blog - you always offer another perspective.
Sometimes changing the frame can change our perception. It seems that what you are describing as being on the rails is a spritual practice -a kind of a specified routine that allows you to consistently spend focused time, to have a chance to consider and reflect on your questions and observations with others, and in general, to have and take opportunities to continually deepen your spiritual experience. Each of us has different needs as far as a practice is concerned, the important thing is that it fits and works for you.
"An intense period of questioning that followed several years of contentment" sounds to me like a time of growth for you. In my experience, these times can be very painful - ie, growing pains, as when all you thought to be true now looks different, but this can also be so exciting - something new and fresh may be about to emerge.
I thank you again Marjorie for sharing this process with us - I think it helps us all as we relate to these same feelings.
Well dear friends, I have been 'on and off the rails' enough times to know well what Marjorie is talking about. I think I was least 'on the rails' when I was a parish minister; when I went into a more creative ministry, everybody (with few exceptions) thought I had 'left the ministry'. They couldn't have been more wrong; I became much more of a minister when I gave up being a 'professional' (stopped being a hireling priest); God became happier with me and gave me more obvious blessing.
I think the way to be 'on the rails' is to 'follow your bliss'.
Having to look after two small children may be the hardest trial that God will ever put Marjorie through. I could never do it; I'd go bananas in 15 minutes.
Ellie loves children; she's never happier than when she's spending hours with other peoples' children. But then of course she 68; it was much harder for her at 38. Even I know how to deal with them better than I did with our own.
God has time; just think about it; he left Moses in the wilderness for 40 years, then made him wander with the children of Israel for another 40 years. I know the first 40 years was the hardest.
Being on the rails means (to me) having a creative discipline that keeps you going. C.S. Lewis was certainly on the rails when he said he loved monotony.
I will soon publish a post on what is for me the most creative discipline I've found. It's you, dear friends; it's the privilege to address you seriously and be addressed likewise. It's an ongoing trip we're taking together, and we know what the final destination is.
Jesus was constantly saying to his disciples: "be not afraid", "only trust me". Peter was on the rails when he started walking on the water toward Jesus, but he looked aside and fell off the rails. It's the story of our lives.
All of your comments are wonderfully sustaining, thank you.
Crystal, I'm so glad for your companionship on the journey, I know we are all loved. Sounds like that race that we must run with patience. I've never been really good at patience ;-)
Yes, Kwake, its definitely about discomfort. I'm always wondering whether its discomfort I should endure, or whether its a sign that I should change something. Its the fear that I'm supposed to be doing something and I'm not doing it.
Meredith, I don't think you 'didn't have it right.' While your vision wasn't what I had in mind, it offered me some illumination and something to think about. Thank you.
Larry, thanks for offering about Peter falling into the water -- I feel that sums up my feelings. Yes, motherhood is taxing me and growing me and stretching me. Its a challenge but its also a tremendous blessing and I'm very aware of this when I consider those who want children.
I think in many ways, its easier to be with children who aren't your own. I have more patience and less expectation -- and less emotional ties.
Bless you all -- you are a blessing to me.
Marjorie wrote, "Perhaps my vessel is empty. Maybe I am mourning the loss of what was in it and haven't yet realized that what I've lost is less than what I've gained."
This reminded me of a verse from the Tao Te Ching:
It is not the clay the potter throws,
which gives the pot its usefulness,
but the space within the shape,
from which the pot is made.
~
It is precisely where there is no substance that we find the usefulness of clay pots. It is also within us, it seems, that hollow spot, emptiness, that area of quiet spaciousness, that allows God a place to enter into.
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