CowPi Journal

Winston Churchill was plagued by what they use to call “melancholy”. Today we call it depression. He called it the “black dog”. I think he saw it as an enemy not to fight, but to avoid. Some say that is why he took up painting.

I received the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick back in early March for my depression. It is the only time I have received this sacrament (as of yet). We coupled it with Reconciliation. During the ritual, Father read Psalm 143 below. It just so happened to be one from that morning’s psalms in the Divine Office (Liturgy of the Hours). I cried through the whole reading.

This psalm is one of only seven or eight penitential psalms. It is different from the others because this psalmist knows that he is guilty. That’s why he appeals to God’s mercy. Mercy is a loaded word. It not only means clemency and compassionate treatment, but also alleviation of distress and relief. Mercy means to heal, to save.

LORD, hear my prayer;
in your faithfulness listen to my pleading;
answer me in your mercy.
Do not enter into judgment with your servant;
before you no living being can be just.

The enemy has pursued me;
they have crushed my life to the ground.
They have left me in darkness like those long dead.
My spirit is faint within me; my heart is dismayed.

I remember the days of old;
I ponder all your deeds;
the works of your hands I recall.
I stretch out my hands to you;
I thirst for you like a parched land.

Hasten to answer me, LORD;
for my spirit fails me.
Do not hide your face from me,
lest I become like those descending to the pit.

At dawn let me hear of your kindness,
for in you I trust.
Show me the path I should walk,
for to you I entrust my life.

Rescue me, LORD, from my foes,
for in you I hope.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God.

May your kind spirit guide me
on ground that is level.
For your name’s sake, LORD, give me life;
in your mercy lead me out of distress.

I heard the black dog howling off in the distance Monday. But not today.

I was regretting the past
and fearing the future.

Suddenly my Lord was speaking:
“My name is I am.”

He paused. I waited. He continued.

“When you live in the past
with its mistakes and regrets,
it is hard. I am not there.
My name is not I WAS.

“When you live in the future,
with its problems and fears,
it is hard. I am not there.
My name is not I WILL BE.

“When you live in this moment,
it is not hard. I am here.
My name is I AM.”

— Helen Mallicoat

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

The only toy that was kind to the Rabbit was the Skin Horse. The Skin Horse had lived in the nursery longer than any of the others, and he was very wise.

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens when a child loves you. It takes a long time. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, you get loose in the joints, and very shabby.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse. “But when you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

The Rabbit sighed. He longed to become Real, and yet the idea of growing shabby was rather sad. He wished that he could become Real without uncomfortable things happening to him.

— from The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams
      (via crazyacres)

“Real isn’t how you are made.” Becoming Real is about transformation.

“It’s a thing that happens when…” you are loved by others, and you love them. It is something you cannot do by yourself!

“It takes a long time.” And sometimes, it hurts.

“But when you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.” Both the cup of sorrow and the cup of joy pour into your cup of life.

If we could only become “Real without uncomfortable things happening” to us. Isn’t that our fear with God?

Richard Rohr in Everything Belongs makes this simple but bold statement:

God is either in this now or God isn’t at all.

Think about that for a moment. Let it sink in.

Okay. Do you believe that? Do you believe that in the deepest parts of your heart? Do believe that God is here now?

If you do, that means God is not out there. God is here!

But where?

“Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might. Heaven and earth are full of your glory.” God is not waiting in heaven for you to die so that you can join him. God is here on earth too, right now, in everything, in everyone, in even you. God the extraordinary is in the ordinary. (Reminds me of the little fish looking for the ocean.)

Are you aware? Can you see?

— — — — — — —

Richard Rohr uses this little prayer to draw himself into the now, to focus on being present to God that is now, everywhere in all things and people:

Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and know that I am.
Be still and know.
Be still.
Be.

The first line is from Psalms 46:10. It is a popular line from scripture. I have heard it often. I have even tried many times to just “be still”, many times with not much success. Maybe it is because I think that everything about me, around me and in my head needs to be still and quiet. That’s hard to do with the way my mind works, and being a father of four, teaching high school, etc. The connotation of being still seems to demand a lot of time and concentration that I usually do not have.

A few months ago, a friend showed me another version of Psalm 46:10 from the New Jerusalem translation:

Pause a while and know that I am God.

To “pause a while” seems a lot more do-able to me than “be still.” Most books on prayer recommend to set a specific time everyday for prayer and to “be still”. I have not found my best time of the day yet. But to “pause a while” to be aware of God, I can certainly do that many times during the course of my day.

My “pauses” range from a few seconds to several minutes. Anything can trigger one, whenever a moment of grace touches me when my heart is open and I step into it, a moment of living in the now and not letting mind race with the daily minutia. Some days are easy; some days are not. I can find myself “pausing” while looking out a window at a tree or bird, at a smile, especially from a friend or student, at laughter, at tears. Hugs are excellent moments to be fully present to the now of God. Nearly every time I look at someone’s eyes, I pause, I am aware. Every time when I look into their eyes I most definitely am aware. For me, people seem to generate the moments to “pause a while” to be aware of God the easiest, but nature does too. Even man-made objects can if their beauty catches me off guard.

Each “pause” in a way is like participating in a form of the Trinity. There is God who is in everyone and everything, there is the other person (or creature or thing), and me. All in this moment of now, present to each other.

I am learning to “pause a while” at many different moments during the day, to be quiet in my mind and be present to whoever or whatever is there, to be present to the now, to be in a Mary state of mind and heart rather than a Martha. And every time I really “pause a while” to be aware of God around me, however long the moment is, I am, I “be” as the prayer above says. I am with God, in God. And, I take a sip from the “spring of living water.”