Where is God?

I had one of those days yesterday, well not a whole day really when I see the truth of it. But a day filled with waves of grief, waves of emotions, wondering once again "Where are you God? Why are you not answering my prayers? (more like begging sometimes truth be told!) When will you step in and save my son?"

Sure there might be some enlightened masters who aren't afflicted with the human conditions of things like doubt, fear, sadness, confusion, etc, but that's not me, and that's not a reflection of the humans in my immediate world, or the ones who love someone in the depths of addiction. Are you like me asking: When will this end? When will my child be healed? How much longer? Where are you? When God will you answer my prayers? Why are you punishing me, what did I do to deserve this?

I have learned that to dismiss my pain and doubts simply causes more pain. The waves came frequently and intensely yesterday. During one of those waves, I sat on a bench alone in the middle of a park, and cried. I was feeling abandoned, feeling exhausted, asking God when he is going to take care of all this, telling God how tired I am of one crisis after another, having yet another tragedy that takes me down and out. When and How? And, by the way God, if you want a strong believer, if you want me to trust, then God you need to answer me now. I don't believe I'm the only one who goes through this testing. The testing of all my reserves, the testing of faith, testing God himself to show up in my way and in my time. Oh just bring on even more pain. When I get into the business of telling God how to be God, I am in big trouble!

Well, that doesn't work, not just sometimes, all the time. I want to know what does work though. And, thankfully with so much gratitude and trust, ways have been given to me that work! But it does not mean the struggle is removed or the pain just disappears without working it. Here's a glimpse of how it works for me, the first steps: I'm in the parking lot. I let those tears flow as messy as it wants to get. I let that grief, anger and sadness fly! I talk out loud. I say exactly what's on my mind. I let my body be tired. I notice, I allow, and then I notice I'm breathing, and deliberately bring my focus to what my body wants - conscious breathing. I breathe in and visualize my heart opening up like a flower to welcome in new energy, divine love, and let it swirl around and in me. I start to come back to the present. In that moment, I am inspired to access the other tools in my tool box, to feel and notice what my heart wants and knows to be healing. I have options, relief, re-connected, re-membering, being re-minded, my heart open, willing and trusting that I really do have all I need.

Here's the thing though, it doesn't mean the situation has changed, it doesn't mean the pain just goes away. It means I honor it. I am not going to pretend I am immune to suffering because I have some wisdom, experience and spirituality. I am going to declare I am struggling (again). In that declaration I find energy, or really the energy and shifting is provided for me to eventually get back in my car and safely drive home. I have a letter to send to my other son soon to graduate from army boot camp and he's loving it. Grateful. I treat myself to take out. Grateful. I'm too tired to think what to cook much less cook. I honor it. Once home, in the mailbox a friend has sent me a new book of inspiration. Get this title: "It's not supposed to be this way" by Lysa TerKeurst.

Where is God? In my mailbox! In my heart, in this whole experience with my son, with my other son, with and from my friend, at the park in the air and in the mountains, in me being moved to get to the park and get in nature, in an evening that I'm moved to read this book, that when I wake up in the middle of the night I can read again and/or listen to a guided meditation, God is in my breath, always in the breath and opening my heart. God is everywhere, in everything, in me, in you, in us, in the joy and in the pain. I notice my mind recalls other things that I'm excited about, looking forward to. It's really undeniable unless I choose to dismiss it and be its victim. No no no. I refuse to let drugs take more and more, to take my life too. They might have their way, have their day, but I have my ways too and drugs can not have my life, can not have my heart. I will come back to love!

Never did I ever hear the promise that there would not be pain or struggle. But each time, God has used it in me to be used for something good. I have learned great things through pain, grown the most through pain, it has inspired me to change me and heal me, and show up differently in life to experience different things. Pain, when not anesthetized by anything, when welcomed, when honored, brings me back to my heart, to love. That is where God is, that is what works, and that is the trusted place. Yes, there will be that impulse to want the pain to go away, to ignore it, to let it consume and define me. And sometimes I let it have its tantrum. But the invitation calls to me to sit with it, actually welcome it, let it have its life (it is anyway whether I agree or not) and care for it, let it grow me. And it will, not just sometimes, all the time. Wow, would I ever think I'd be grateful for pain? When my mind and heart are joined in clarity, the gratitude does me. That's where God is.

It's been hard, I imagine it's going to be hard in the future. Loving someone addicted to drugs, addicted to the painful stories they tell about themselves and life, addicted to doing things their own way and not changing or welcoming other healthier ways, is very hard. But it is harder still to want the struggle, want all the emotions, want all this to just go away when the reality is it is here and sitting in my lap. So, it is in my lap, now what? Kind of like it is what is, and I want to take it a step further to now what! I am going to move forward with it and because of it. It will use me, and I welcome a choice to use it, and to trust that it will, and is being used in the most divine ways. And sometimes the tide is in, sometimes it's out. I am part of those waves, and I am a wave. Good thing there are some supports to ride them!

A return to love, a love that never left except when I believed it abandoned me. This is where my God is, always.

Peace be with you,

Joanne