The Mass reading for selected verses of Psalm 66 included the response: "Blessed be God who filled my soul with fire."
I've accepted this refrain as an anthem for as long as helpful, for as long as it implants itself within my now-fire-filled soul. I shared the praises of Psalm 66 with Angel, the woman who brought His Real Presence in the Host today. I pointed out the ease of claiming Blessed be God who filled my soul with fire" as a loving strength to reassure us in our lives of prayer and praise--and for most, lives of temporal, good action.
As Angel left, I called out to her that this is past-tense; God has already filled our souls with fire! Thus, as she hoped to be able to reach her elder mother who had called during the mother's one reprieve per week from a terribly controlling husband, I reminded Angel that our souls are filled with the fire of the Holy Spirit, the fire of God, the fire of the Son. We are given in our souls all that fire imbues.
On this Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, I have considered the sense of my physical, prayer, and spiritual life being rather fragmented for some time. Increasing disability and pain prior to the spine surgery included trying to unpack and organize this hermitage, to begin painting a couple rooms, to have too-close-to-hermitage trees removed and for me to plant trees, shrubs, perennials--much of this prior to learning how serious was the spine issue.
In other words, I feel as if my life is distracted and not under my will or discipline.
Of course it is not! All the more, I am being shown by His Real Presence the detail to which God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit guide, rule, and every present moments. Not even seeing the fragments in the days and nights am I to be disturbed with thoughts of not praying or praising enough, or that I doze off or distract to relax with music or documentaries, Indie films, British programs, bits of news on the laptop. The goal to get this pained and healing body up, brace on, walker put to motion with walking in the house up to 8 times a day, is a priority in order to get past this period of recovery so that God can direct and guide what it is He wills of me to fulfill the mission He desires of me.
He is teaching me so much through Scriptures I've read many times over the years; but now the Living Words are coming alive in ways they'd not before. All is flowing and filtering into a beautiful stream of which I am not quite yet capable of reaching with cupped hands to quench a thirst and wondering that is developing within as the hours and days and nights slowly merge one into the other.
Now this fire filling my soul--part of God's plan in leading me to more specifics of what He wants of me in fulfilling the mission? I'd say so; it feels right, burning within me with great desire on my part and far more on His.
He's definitely not opening the doors to continue much in the construction activities--at least not for a year, and then if at all, very limited activity. Again, if at all is more likely, and not at all as far as lifting lumber and windows, doors, tile backer board for shower and bathroom walls and floors.
All that the fire in this soul can burn away; ashes of memories of the past adventures--part of the previous phase, adventure. Now is the moment of many moments to ponder this fire in my soul and for what its flames leap and light up what is next.
I've been pondering pain prayer and light as an aid to healing. The evolving thoughts include that pain prayer is that which flows out of one's pain and suffering (of any type or form) and finds its way mystically to whatever source of need, known and unknown.
When Dr. H. called a week ago while he was on a road trip--perhaps first major trip since his wife passed--he mentioned light therapy and a young girl patient he had a few years ago. Medical doctors and eye and brain specialists could find no cause for her problem of seeing different colored lights around people. She had gone to her parents when around age 11 or so, as she realized other people did not see these colors around people. With great concern, after all the other specialists could not diagnose her, they recommended psychological therapy. Surely something was psychologically wrong with the child.
Quickly enough, Dr. H. realized the girl had the gift of seeing auras--colors of light that emanate from our bodies and beings based upon various aspects of energy, thought, emotion, sickness, health. Yes, he explained to her that it is a gift, and what a helpful one, at that. However, as he has found with other children who are the most likely to be able to see auras of light, naturally, they tend to outgrow it in teen years. Dr. H. is interested in studying this phenomenon more, as he thinks it would be of benefit to somehow not lose that gift.
As part of our phone discussion, Dr. H. asked that with all this time I have in the silence and solitude of healing, surely I spend time focusing my mind on utilizing various colors of light and image them into such as my spine for healing? I explained that I have become lazy! I have come to consider, over the years, that it does not seem that I need a lot of effort. (For he is aware of mystical experiences and the mystical ecstasy.) I reminded him that none of these experiences come at all from me, or from my focus or effort--no, not at all.
It seems more that I have grasped the truth of Jesus saying, "Take my yoke upon you; my yoke is easy and my burden light. I need to desire, to love, to avail myself of His Real Presence--the Holy Trinity--and allow God to utilize me in whatever way. Where I am slipping, it seems to me, is in distraction rather than quietly and simply availing myself to God.
After our phone conversation, I considered how, yes, over the years I do not seek experiences; and even if such as with exploring pain praying, I do not "try" to "do" anything. I just rest in the silence, and ponder, and try to listen and be aware with the inner senses, of anything heard or visual, felt or otherwise. It does seem haphazard, perhaps, but I trust in the Trinity, I seek Christ, God, the Holy Spirit; I seek the Three-In-One with my heart, with love--as best I know to seek with love and with whatever all love means and is. In essence, I suppose, I seek God of Whom I am in, with God Who Is within me.
I am in too much pain to think hard, to work hard, to even suffer hard. I figure I'm in the yoke with Jesus, and He is leading and I am following along. Yoke easy, burden is light.
So today (or was it last night?) I was told from within what now I know is the fire filling my soul, that "Pain is not the enemy; suffering is not the enemy. Death is not the enemy."
Certainly puts into proper context and perspective whether or not a body will be able to bend anymore or lift more than 10 pounds. Whatever of sufferings minor or not minor, those aspects are not the enemy. Pain is not the enemy, so why treat it as such? Take care of the pain charitably; tone it down with whatever aids available, within temporal parameters. Do not desire to beat it out or eradicate it.
If pain is meant to leave for a time, that is lovely. But know that while on this earth, we will not be without earthly pain. There are all types and manner of earthly suffering--body, mind, heart, spirit suffering. Even in a sudden death, there will be a leave-taking of soul from body, and that could include some degree of some flash of pain or a grieving of the separation.
I'm not suggesting that we do not grieve when a loved one suffers, is in pain, dies. But pain or suffering or death are not the enemy.
I texted Dr. H. the reality of pain, suffering, death not being the enemy. I'm not sure how he'll view this truth. I'm admiring its various facets as I write. I also texted that pain, suffering, death are opportunities, are the loving means of the soul's growth.
I'm considering the elderly friend who was allowed to leave his body after 94 years and the last 20 months without functioning mind and body. Yet his children, in their mid-60's, Christian and Catholic, had a struggle in letting him go. They even tried force feeding him after he could no longer swallow.
So there we conjecture that death must have seemed the enemy to their emotions and thinking. God did have a doctor put a quick stop to that dangerous force-feeding, and God freed the man a couple nights later. The man "slept away," as his wife wrote of the peaceful and celebratory event.
As for light therapy, the morning after the phone conversation with Dr. H., I noticed in Scripture Jesus saying, "If you follow me and are my disciples, you will be given the light of life." That is the light I'm seeking, of which I'm interested and curious and desire with all my now fire-filled soul. The most I've sensed thus far, of any tangible quality, is that maybe the light of life is white-silver brightness, or maybe it is a full spectrum of intermingled and fused light colors possible in God's creation of light. And I do still ask, "Is the light of life the same as the light of Christ? After all, Christ is our life, right?
Blessed be God who has filled my (and your?) soul with fire! God bless His Real Presence in us!
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