Sighs too deep for words

God knows I've been put out with him, lately. God, that is.

I call God a "him" because I've had the evil thought that God must be a man: demanding proof of my love for him, while offering me naught but promises. Last week, I shocked (priest) Mother Marvelous with this insight.

(She told me I'm beyond my mother's words now. Do I want to hang onto the stuff from the past and be miserable, or reach out to God's love and acceptance?)

I've been all elbows and knees with God lately, pushing him away. Yet, he keeps coming 'round. I feel his soft breath on my cheek. I feel his enveloping comfort.

I hear his words, that I am his beloved, made beautiful and perfect by his love. I am the apple of his eye, a treasured jewel. He, who knows even when the sparrow falls, knows the number of hairs on my head. He cherishes each one. He will never let me slip through his fingers. Indeed, he holds me in the palm of his hand. My name is inscribed on it. He rejoices over me with singing.

For the past few years, these words have slowly been overcoming all the negative ones I learned in childhood and still heard in adulthood. It hasn't been an easy job. I can hold onto hurts.

God's been holding onto me tighter.

While I can't claim to be the poster girl for positive self-image, I know things have been changing and are still changing in me. Not because of my strength, but because of God's unwillingness to let go.

The Gospel reading for today was perfect. Romans 8:26-39:

"The Sprit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God..."

I've been emotional (a mess!) and over-sensitive the last few weeks, not formulating much in the way of prayers. But Spirit, I feel your sighs. I think you've been timing them to mine.

It is not Jesus who condemns. That comes from weak human flesh. Jesus intercedes for me. He is the one right beside me through all this nastiness, pulling me toward wholeness.

"... Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? ... No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Thank you, Lord, for holding onto me and talking to me. Thank you for the healing that is going on in me. And God, thank you for putting marvelous people into my life. You talk to me through them, too.