When
has the Holy Spirit ‘called’ you?
Recently
I went up to bed one night, got into my Angry Bird pajama bottoms,
turned out the light, climbed in next to my wife (and our two year
old daughter, a now-regular fixture by the time I go to bed) and I
reached to my bedpost for my rosary beads. As I held onto them and
put my fingers on the cross, I started whispering the Apostle’s
Creed slowly…
“I
believe in God…” something
doesn’t feel quite right…
“The
Father, The Almighty…” this
cross feels thin…
“Creator
of Heaven and Earth…” and
FLAT, it feels flat…
“And
I believe in Jesus Christ…” Jesus!
Jesus is missing!!!
Thus
began the few glorious days in which I thought a miracle had occurred
in my bedroom. You see, the corpus was missing from the cross. He was
Risen! I leaped from bed and turned on the light. I started searching
on the floor near a spot where I had remembered it hitting the bed
frame a couple of nights before. It wasn't there. I searched all over
the bedroom floor and could not find the body of Christ on the light
colored carpet. Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that he had
been resurrected and I went to bed.
A few days later (three days? I don't
remember, should have counted.) I found it behind the bed, and realized
then that no, a miracle did not occur in my bedroom. But in that few
days it forced me to think of something.
Why not me?
I mean, let's face it, I did not really
believe that a tiny resurrection had happened to the crucifix on my
rosary. After all, who am I that a miracle (even a tiny one) would
happen to me?
I am no great, holy man. I am certainly
not a saint, nor even a great theological thinker. What made me think
that I was so special that this tiny sign was brought on to me? These thoughts accentuated something
I've been thinking about during Lent. I guess it was kind of my Lenten fast,
although I must admit I haven't been as successful as I would like. I
have been trying to believe in myself as a worthy creation of God.
You see, I have a good friend who has
been helping me to look at some things lately and one of the
recurring themes is that for some reason, I don't find myself very
deserving. Not deserving of respect, not deserving of success, not
deserving of much at all; let alone miracles.
When I first realized it, I tried to
trace back to when I started to feel that way and for the life of me,
I have no idea. There was no great trauma, no tribulation or
disappointment or rejection that led to it. It just happened. One day
I woke up and I just didn't feel like I was worth much. Now, before
this comes off as some sort of pity-party (if it isn't too late
already), I realize that I have had accomplishments in my life. I
have a loving family, an amazing and patient wife and two of the most
beautiful daughters ever, and no, I am NOT biased.
Well, as Lent began this year, I
figured I was going to kick that attitude right out the door. To
paraphrase Stuart Smalley of Saturday Night Live fame, “No more
stinkin' thinkin'!”. No more self-deprecating humor. No more being
down on myself or thinking there is anything I can't do! “I can do anything!”, I thought. I
am made in the image and likeness of God. He knitted me together in
my mother's womb. He has plans for me; plans to prosper me and not to
harm me; plans for hope and a future.
And as I built myself up with these
thoughts, I started to think of times when the Holy Spirit HAD called
me. Like when I met my wife and swore that it was going to be my last
match.com date for a while. I was right! There were so many signs
calling me back. Some small things, some really big.
I had an inexplicable desire to bring
my kids up in the faith, even at a time when I had lost my faith, and
before I even had any kids. Around that same time, I had friends who
wanted to see the 'Passion of the Christ'. It was the night before my
first black belt test and even though I had neglected my relationship
with Jesus, I teared up at the movie. That night, I came close to
realizing the power of what He had done for me.
This past fall, I went on a men's
retreat. We were talking about our 'brushes' with the Holy Spirit
and I recalled one of the most powerful calls I had; a call which,
again, went nearly unnoticed at the time.
A long time ago, I went to a short seminar on
hypnotic past life regression. I'm not sure that was exactly how it
was worded, but you get the idea. The leader guided us through this
meditation, taking us from a peaceful place on Earth, up into space,
and then coming back to our home planet. The first thing we 'saw' was
supposedly a glimpse of our past life. I remember, in my mind's eye,
I saw my feet wearing sandals on a dirt road and thought I was going
to be a Samurai. I was pretty stoked! But then, on the road just
above me, there was a crowd and they were taunting a man who I could
just 'sense' (this kinda stuff has a lot of 'sensing') was innocent.
They were dragging him off to be punished. As the leader gently coaxed us out of
our trance, I thought, “Wow, maybe I was at the crucifixion. Maybe
I was an apostle.”
Well, I'm not really into the past
life, new age, hypnotic stuff now. But as I sat at the retreat house
that weekend, I realized that God could very well have planted that
vision as one of many subtle calls to bring me back to Him.
There have been other, much less subtle
calls. I hesitate to mention them here lest I be carried off in a
jacket with the sleeves in the back, but He is there. And for some
reason, He really wanted me back. So it's kind
of silly to think myself not worthy of miracles. It's a miracle that
I was here to turn forty last year. It's a miracle that I have been
able to accomplish some of the things I've done. My marriage, my
daughters, all miracles. And it's a miracle that I went through such
a dark period of separating myself from God only to have him come
calling me back.
So what Lent has taught me so far this
year (and don't you, dear reader, think for a minute that I think
this applies only to me) is that, if God thinks we are important
enough to knit us together in our mothers' wombs, breathe life into
us through the Holy Spirit, make us in His image and come down to
walk among us, suffering and dying for our sins, then we have no
right to insult His creation by putting ourselves down and
considering ourselves unworthy of any good thing!
Yes, even tiny, little miracles.
