Writing With Abandon

Reflections and ramblings about life as an educator, writer, reader, knitter, and over-thinker. Trying to do the writing only I can do.

Tag: faith

  • On Faith

    A few weeks ago, before the conclave that would select the successor to Pope Francis, Patrick and I went on a pope film spree. 

    First, we watched Conclave. Next, The Two Popes. And finally, at Patrick’s brother’s suggestion, A Man of His Word, the documentary about Pope Francis. Each of the films kept me thinking, and inspired deep conversations about faith. 

    I grew up agnostic. My mom is a reformed Jew, and my dad was raised Episcopalian, but neither of my parents are religious, and so they didn’t raise us to be. They simply raised us on the golden rule: “Treat others the way you wish to be treated.”

    That said, I’m no atheist — I’ve always felt that there was something greater. I nerd out about astrology, I’m into human design, and I have been finding myself more and more surrendering to faith when faced with the unknown. 

    In Conclave, Cardinal Lawrence greets his fellow cardinals with a speech:

    “Certainty is the great enemy of unity. Certainty is the deadly enemy of tolerance. Even Christ was not certain at the end. ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ he cried out in his agony at the ninth hour on the cross. Our faith is a living thing precisely because it walks hand-in-hand with doubt. If there was only certainty and no doubt, there would be no mystery. And therefore, no need for faith. Let us pray that God will grant us a Pope who doubts. And let him grant us a Pope who sins and asks for forgiveness and who carries on.”

    I looked at Patrick, my arms covered in goosebumps. Cardinal Lawrence was right — if everything was already known, why would anyone even need faith, need religion?

    I am less than 4 weeks away from leaving teaching, without a solid idea of what is next for me. The future is unknown. And fear lingers at every turn of thought, giving its unwanted opinions with “what if”s that leave me reeling. 

    But fear is a liar. I’ve been here before. I’ve listened to fear and let it keep me trapped in a situation that did not serve me, and when I finally got out, what did I learn? That everything I feared would happen, didn’t. 

    In fact, only good came my way. What was meant for me found me, because I turned away from fear, out of love for myself, and kept faith that everything would be okay. (Having the best support system here in Miami didn’t hurt, either.)

    As I move forward into the unknown yet again, I am reminding myself to keep faith. And if there is a god, well, Pope Francis did say, “God’s love is the same for each and every person. No matter what your religion, even for an atheist, it’s the same love.” So, maybe there really is a higher power watching over me and my loved ones. Maybe that higher power is simply unconditional love. We can never know with any certainty. 

    But it’s that unknown, that uncertainty, that mystery of life, that inspires any faith at all. And for all the unexpected people and experiences life has granted me, I am only ever grateful and full of love. 

    Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  • Surrender

    “Are you a religious person?” she asks me.

    “No, but I’m spiritual, I think,” I tell her.

    “Do you believe there is some sort of higher power?”

    “I guess so, yes,” I say, “though I don’t think there’s a God, per se.”

    “For me, the highest power is divine love,” she shares. “Your sensitivity is a super power. You have the power to feel others’ feelings. And you’re a healer. But you don’t heal by taking on others’ feelings. You heal by being a conduit, a tube, through which divine love can flow. Love passes through you to heal others.”

    I imagine myself as a macaroni or cavatappi noodle, divine love coming in through the top, and shooting out the other side.

    “What you need to remember is that you have no control — none of us do. Most of the time, you just have to surrender to the greater power of divine love.”

    I nod.

    “Prayer is powerful, you know. There have been studies on it.”

    I recreate this conversation with sentences I’ve logged in my Notes app, trying to capture her wisdom before I forget it.

    ***

    I think of all the people in my life I want to surrender to divine love today. My heart sends out love in color to their hearts. I pray, even though I’m not religious, that divine love will cradle them as they wade through grief, anger, fear, make the landing softer, allow them to find even a small moment of peace amidst the chaos.

    I visualize them in violet light, soft green light, pink light, white golden light. I let the light envelop them, protecting them like a flame, where anything that comes towards them burns up with a sizzle.

    I surrender, knowing I have no control but this: to have faith that they will be okay.