For a while now, I have started my morning time with God with centering prayer. Some people have a favorite name and phrase for God they use consistently in this practice. I tend to vary mine from time to time.
On this day, I started with twenty minutes of praying with the phrase “Gracious Lord, please draw near.” As I let distracting thoughts come and go, continuing to focus on this short phrase, I found as I often do with centering prayer that the noise in my mind receded to the background. And I heard the question, “Do you want me to draw near even if you do not like what I am bringing?”
I thought of a friend whose husband knows her so well she is quite comfortable with him picking out clothes for her. She may be doubtful when she first sees it, but once she tries it on, she is very pleased with it. He knows her that well.
There is no human that I have felt knows me that well. But, admittedly, there have been some pretty ridiculous acts of trust in people I don’t even know: getting on a ride at the county fair, trusting the people who put that contraption together. Eating at a restaurant that I am trusting that my food is clean and not poisoned. A doctor prescribing medication and the pharmacist that fills it. If it’s possible to achieve that level of trust in a human – how is it that we struggle with saying to our loving Lord, “You pick out whatever you think is best today.” Especially when the stakes are high, such as healing a disease, something that concerns our child, or what our financial situation may be.
I spoke honestly with God that day, and basically admitted that sometimes I resist the gifts that come wrapped in ugly paper. I thought back over some things that were very painful in my life and reflected on how they had become blessings in disguise. I asked Father to help me to trust him more, and to be willing to be willing to say, “I want what you want.”
My reading for the day was Psalm 103. This passage is filled with the psalmist’s choice to “bless the Lord.” And I was inspired to write my own version and prayer, as follows:
Bless the Lord oh my soul,
and all that is within me
bless his holy name.
Father – my compassionate creator,
bless you for all your gifts –
the ones I gladly receive and the ones I do not want and resist,
for you want nothing but the best for me.
Jesus – my friend, my rescuer, my shepherd –
bless you for your eternal salvation.
Salvation that shows me
my true self as I gaze at you.
Salvation that reveals my shadow self,
and provides the way to a bright
form that casts a dimmer glow of your likeness.
Spirit – my powerful and playful dance partner,
bless you for your endless supply of power and light.
Joy, peace, love, hope, patience, faithfulness,
kindness, gentleness, self-control –
all fragrant aromas that intoxicate,
infiltrate, heal, fill and overflow
into me and over me and out of me.
God, in all your majestic fullness,
I bless your name.
May my life bless your name,
my innermost thoughts,
my desires,
my actions,
my ministry,
my family and their families,
my possessions
my lack and my fullness,
my coming and going,
my sleep and my waking,
my days and my nights,
my words and my silence.
Let all that concerns me, now and forever,
bless your Holy Name!
May it be unto me as you say.
Amen
I encourage you to set aside some time this week or this month to take an inventory of the gifts that have come your way that seemed more like curses. Ask God to help you look behind the ugly wrappings to ponder what surprising gifts may have been nestled inside. Maybe you would feel the nudge to write your own psalm of blessing. Remember, blessings are something we choose to do, even when the feelings may not be warm and fuzzy. That may come later in another package.