As is my usual practice, I run from God when things get tough. Despite all the years I spent finding a place for myself in the Episcopal Church and getting in touch with my faith, old habits are hard to break. I should feel bad. Who runs from God? Seriously? I remind myself that plenty of people hide in the presence of the Divine, because sometimes hiding is easier than facing yourself and dealing with all the issues, dramatics, and what-the-fucks rolling around in your head. Moses hid from God, hence the burning bush, Peter thrice denied Christ rather than own up to the truth he believed, and, perhaps the one I most indentify with out of all the disciples, Thomas doubted. Constantly.
I avoid church when I get in one of these moods. I read, burying my head in words like the proverbial ostrich in the sand, because there are days when it is easier to read someone else's stories instead of dealing with your own inadequacies and failures. I close myself off at work, in my house, in pretty much anything, because there is nothing like coming face to face with the Creator, metaphorically speaking, and having that big ass mirror held up to your face. Flaws and all, folks. It's not pretty when God rips off that mask and shows you who you truly are and who you are meant to be in this world.
At times like these, I call to mind Saint Teresa of Avila's prayer:
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you
are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite
possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received,
and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones,
and allow your soul the freedom to sing,
dance, praise and love.
It is there for each and every one of us.
