Mass reading from the other morning, Ephesians 2:19-23:
"So then you are no longer strangers and sojourners,
but you are fellow citizens with the holy ones
and members of the household of God,
built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets,
with Christ Jesus Himself as the capstone.
Through Him the whole structure is held together
and grows into a temple sacred in the Lord;
in Him you also are being built together
into a dwelling place of God in the Spirit."
Off and on, I wonder if I am fulfilling the mission God brought me back from death to fulfill. He had told me when I had died in recovery room nearly 31 years ago, end of this month, that I was to rear my children and fulfill my mission. With that, I was sent back into my body, filled with temporal pain. The medical staff was elated that I was breathing again despite the return to cardiac arrests. The surgeon said he did not know if he could save me, but he would try, and was taking me back into surgery to see if something wrong with the rods he'd installed. Said driving late at night, returning to the hospital after receiving the urgent call, he had a thought come to him that the rods might be the problem.
Ended up they were--bent not quite right for my spine and put me into cardiac arrests beyond what they said someone should have survived. But enough on that. I was back, and for better or worse--for I certainly tried my best--I reared my children into adulthood in which they are each thriving and contributing members of society, educated, healthy, successful and I think content and pleased to be alive with their family and friends and lives.
But my mission--doing all this manual labor trying to finish a house I'd ended up having to gut and renovate--am I fulfilling my mission? The thought returns to me when I'm picking blueberries to put out on the roadside table for whatever donations anyone wishes to leave in exchange: God has placed you here; He allowed my not realizing others were selling something that was a mess and that workers in this area are over-priced and often not qualified nor quality workers.
I have reflected that I could have tried to bail out early on; but the gutting had commenced before I (or my family who lived in area at the time) realized the total scope of just how bad a condition. We had removed carpeting and a wall and ceiling, as well as some asbestos flooring, getting down to original fir floors (in awful condition).
It was the rats and the horrible odor in the house--and a handyman who said it was rat infested and the odor rat urine-soaked wood and drywall. Rats were trying to get in and some did; birds were getting in. And to try to sell it with the odor (was not noticed in winter because heater had not been on other than the two hours of the inspection time). And to try to sell it with some of it gutted, a small amount of what ended up being gutted, was still going to be a problem because banks will not approve a buyer's loan if a house is not totally finished--down to trim around a window or a doorway.
I would have lost even more of my parents' hard-earned money--more of the inheritance they so wanted for me to use for a better life than the hardships I'd had financially as a single parent with low child support and no help from ex-spouse in putting children through college and for such things as health insurance and cultural experiences.
So I remained and decided to try to make it habitable and then sell. It was a hard grind and continues to be. There have been more obstacles than I can recall and don't want to recall. Some were strange and the number too many for normalcy's sake. And now, I continue to try to finish, finding the finishing details to be quite time-consuming and my energy low.
It is a strange effect, to be so close to finishing a dwelling place and yet get plagued with doubts that I actually can finish. For one thing, I have to wait for a stronger person to help with a few simple tasks such as drilling in some 6" screws to secure newell posts before I can finish the stair banister and balusters. Help removing a pocket door so I can trim off 1/4" from the bottom and rehang it. Takes two people, and thus far my marvelous angel, Beth--in Hebrew means "house" and refers to "God is in this place"--has not materialized to give two hands and strength to the effort. But Beth has certainly helped me in miraculous ways all along.
So the above Scripture has seemed an answer to my questioning the Lord if I am fulfilling my mission--and more so, how am I fulfilling it by working on a temporal dwelling?
The answer is in the Scripture. It all has to do with the spiritual realm, and this earthly dwelling and task of learning more than I've learned in various ways over the five years here--this earthly dwelling has taught me spiritual truths beyond what years prior I learned.
This old farmhouse, Te Deum Hermitage, is a metaphor for how I am being built together, in Christ, into a dwelling place of God and the Spirit.
Perhaps I need to consider more the aspects of my daily manual labor in constructing a new interior to this house (and did a bit of exterior, as well). I ought ponder how it is that through the Lord, in Him, this structure is actually held together--for it is as efforts are all for God. But more so, it is held together due to God's omnipotence and love, and His will and wisdom in all matters.
On the spiritual level, all the trials and struggles within, as well as the praying for others, the hours and hours of conversations with God in the solitude of silence--all was His doing and allowing me to be constructed, as well, to be cut and sanded, refurbished and nailed effectively into God's household, along with the holy ones and other of His members. My life, thus, is built upon the foundation of the Trinity who imparted basic construction to the apostles and prophets.
I will have to reflect further and pray for more insights into this consideration of how it is that my time here, including whatever days or weeks remain in efforts to finish this earthly dwelling place and then go only-God-knows-where next. Or if there is some temporal next place or will be my time to be taken into Christ's judgment and transferred to the fully mystical life.
The reality of God's dwelling and being a member of His household, is putting a spirit of greater motivation and worth into my efforts today, to keep working and praying and praising despite being physically fatigued and with added physical pain. I will next nail some boards in an area to the right of what I have named "the stairway to heaven"--the stairs that are finally being finished after having to also remove the old and faulty, original stairway.
Am trying to multi-task today with hooking up soaker hoses and replenishing the roadside table with 1/2 lb. bags of organic blueberries. And then there is the sanding and priming of the final skirt board and some baseboard trim--last bits of trim not already primed and painted, awaiting cutting and installation. But there remain the obstacles in which I must evidently wait for a temporal member of the household of God--perhaps the man from the parish who with his wife are away on an extended trip. Or perhaps God will provide a help from my angel in the form of strength to carry a door up the stairs to install in the bathroom, or strength to somehow remove a pocket door without mortal help.
I'm open for mystical, supernatural assistance, for sure. More of it, that is, for I know in surety that the Lord has provided much help and has my angel here all the time, nudging and assisting, guiding and reminding me to remain calm and humble when I do not pay attention and make errors.
Well, of course, Jesus was a carpenter, as was His earthly father figure, St. Joseph. I know I've been helped beyond mortal comprehension.
God bless His Real Presence in us! Simply keep going! Remain in His Love!
No comments:
Post a Comment