Been in yet another excruciating pain siege. The usual phases occurred, replete with black outs, nightmares, inability to get up; then the day of emotions and temptation to great discouragement which signals a turning point, as the progression to being able to get up and get going. Yesterday, the sense of fainting left, late morning. The back was still quite sickening with radiating pain, but the electrician was here, and what an encouragement to have the electrical tasks finished.
He is a good soul, and I marvel at how we made connection nearly five years ago. He has been a gift from God, truly. In fact, I am astounded by all the miraculous interventions and assistances the Lord has provided in this process of trying to finish the renovation of this old farm house, to get myself out of what I got into without realizing the pitfalls prior.
Jean Patrick has cleared a day out of his work and classes schedule, to come help on Memorial Day, Monday. The young lad has not been here for a week, and it is best he not come after school as he is too tired and I cannot keep up the pace given that I tried to do interior manual labor as well as exterior in order to have something ready that he was willing and able to do (with my always needing to work with him). He is simply too young in whatever ways, and too weak, to do the tasks I need help with--mostly yard work. It is easy enough to shovel bark mulch off the truck and into wheelbarrow, and to then spread it; but even at that he was slow and weary at his tasks, with my becoming weary just in trying to keep him motivated to hustle a bit, put some energy behind it.
Obviously, he liked the idea of having a job and earning a very good hourly wage, but the work itself, and working--not so much. When he is older, he will learn more about work ethic; I tried to train him even to shovel a full scoop and to fill the wheelbarrow rather than leave it at one-third full. But the next time he came, he was back to the lesser way, the weaker way, the more time-consuming way.
I have considered St. Paul's words regarding running the race. It is true that we first must consciously be in the race, to live our lives as fully as possible, revering God and the life He has given us. While we are in the race, we may or may not be running it. And as to winning the race, most of us hope and pray to simply finish the race.
I'm dragging to the finish line--or I should say "toward" the finish line.
Sometimes I wonder if this race is what God truly wants me to have participated in. And then I consider that it is not the type of race that matters, but the way in which we approach and live out the various "races" in our temporal-spiritual existences. When we can sprint or distance run, all well and good. When we must walk, fine. When we must crawl, we crawl; and when we fall or faint, we drag ourselves or are dragged or picked up and lugged over the finish line.
If we collapse in the race, even then we are carried off. There is still a forward effort, a finishing of the race even if we did not finish it in the way the others did or do. There is still a conclusion of sorts. And then there is a forward movement after, whether we are physically dead or alive. There is always an unfolding for us--always and ever more.
Increasingly, I have been pondering the purpose, and asking the Lord to remind me of my mission which of course is of God, of His will, His love. The means of union with God do include as our training, the efforts and situations we have in this world, notably with others even if as a hermit, not so much physically with others. One may be spiritually with others as much as in the temporal as with those on the other side of the temporal, of this earth, of flesh and bone, time, matter, earthly existence.
Today's efforts include countering the earth's elements. In my little spot, we've not had noticeable rain in a month. I must today get started in hooking up the hose to soaker hoses, some of which need mending and replacing near trees and plants after having been moved in the weeding and mulch-spreading process. And today's race, or lap of the race, includes limping with this body. While over the worst of this recent pain siege, the body pushed yesterday, which is part of running a race. We tend to push ourselves onward, praying all the while for the stamina and will to add extra impetus to the forward-propelling motion while very much aware of the wisdom and reality, the truth, that we remain in actuality in present moments.
Finishing this particular hermitage completion race is a ways off. And there are always more races to run: metaphorically, actually, temporally, spiritually. I'm recognizing that the most important race, the race of our souls throughout life eternal, is not going to have a finish line, not really. Eternity continuously and continually unfolds. The hoped-for and desired progression is toward union with God, but do we end or finish when we have been blessed with attaining this union, or are there yet more degrees of union, or further events and gradations of union?
Does love (of which God is love), have a finish line?
While in the temporal or finite aspects of life's "races", there are types of finish lines, and the effect we may have of finishing a race and many races, there is always more. Participating in the race and finishing the race varies yet are each a necessary part of living temporally and spiritually.
When we finish one aspect regardless if seemingly temporal more than spiritual, or more spiritual than temporal, there is another, and then another. Love metamorphoses as do our souls which desire and pray to remain in Christ's love. Love seems to be the key to running and finishing.
I must now rise and see about some very hot green tea to try to help clear the spinal headache that other medications have not quite tamed to a functioning point. Yet love will be my focus in today's race of more manual labor, prayer, and each with Christ love as spiritual infusion.
God bless His Real Presence in us!
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