Friday, October 31, 2008

The Letter

In September I was flat against the wall with deadlines, working on retreat plans for 350 women over two weekends, wanting to visit with a few friends before summer’s end, plus routine stuff. I felt frustrated enough to pour out my frustration in a letter to God. It ended up being a sacred moment with a sense of humor. Here’s exactly what happened!

"Dear God,

I look out the window at the beckoning beach and white-capped waves and want to experience you out there. But I’m too caught up experiencing you in here on my laptop, writing and planning ways to bring you to women! I don’t want to miss what you have for me here. But it’s ok with me if you want to pause in the pouring out of your insights for a second, so I can catch you on the flipside, so to speak, without being flippant!"

Of course little Bible verses popped into my head, like, “Come away with me.” The funny part was that the minute I wrote “Dear God,” this little paper clip guy appeared on the screen with, “It looks like you’re trying to write a letter. Would you like help?” He even gave me two options: Get help with writing the letter, or just write the letter without help. I’ll just write it myself; I don’t think you’d understand. Hey, you never know who’s watching!

It did help to write the letter. I left God inside with my inspired deadline materials and enjoyed Him outside on the beach, walking with friends. He can do that you know, be everywhere at once. When I got back and started working on deadlines again, sure enough, I had renewed energy and clarity. I give Him credit for that, too!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hi from out here in Aurora, IL! Am still praying for your
youngest...
Something to consider--I've always thought of thanksgiving going with supplication rather than with confession. I've thought that confession goes with adoration (praise). I say this because when we ask God for release from a sweet tooth and He gives it, then we thank. (Supplication-thanksgiving) When we get down to the really awful business of
confession--like confessing judgment of a husband or something equally noxious, shame over not living up to what we thought in pride, that we'd never do--then God's amazing mercy to blot out our iniquities comes to play and we
fall down in astonished adoration. (I'm thinking ACTS prayer language here) Anyway, I believe that my praise muscles aren't really up to the quality of many of the saints of old because we Lutherans don't practice regular examination/confession like our Catholic siblings. I wish I could feel God's pain over my besetting sins, don't you... Anyway, enjoying your e-newsletter.

Julaine Kammrath