I have been having a lot of conversations with God lately. Mostly they have been one-sided–I talk a lot and God doesn’t say very much. Or I yell and swear at God and God doesn’t say very much. Sometimes I pose deep philosophical questions, “God, are you really ‘up there?'” but as usual, God isn’t particularly quick to reply. There have been times when I’ve thought that perhaps God doesn’t say much because God isn’t really listening; after all, in order for one to have something to say, one has to be paying attention, or at least sort of listening to the other person. So I’m not always convinced that God is listening.
I must confess to periodically trying reverse psychology on God. Perhaps, I reason, if I curse and swear and threaten to stop believing in a Supreme Being and act like I don’t care one way or another, the Supreme Being will reveal Itself to me. It’s a departure from begging and cajoling, which I also confess to doing periodically in an attempt to garner Divine attention. I can’t say that either of those approaches has more efficacy than the other, but the jury’s still out. So most days I take a more casual, conversational approach, talking about the things I am grateful for and whatever is on my mind, usually several times per day. Talking to God is a habit, a part of my life that I could not stop doing even if I wanted to, which, in spite of the inconsistency of Divine responses, I do not.
Lately I’ve been asking God for some clarity about one or two particular things in my life. While I could use some assistance with some of these things, I am not sitting back praying and waiting for God to swoop in and fix things. I don’t mind working on my own behalf, I simply need some clarity on which direction I should head. I am grateful for the gifts of strength and perseverance I’ve been blessed with, as I frequently draw upon them as I await the oft-requested clarity. A friend has told me more than once that I am “facing the cannon” in a particular area of my life, and that’s mostly alright. Though I periodically get weary of all the struggle, I seem to be granted just enough grace to carry me through to the next battle. I continue to recite portions of the poem, “Invictus,” reminding myself to “thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.”
I am grateful to have been raised in a particular faith tradition. While I have left behind some of the dogma and doctrines of this tradition, I am grateful nonetheless for the discipline and principles that laid the foundation for my current spirituality. I will likely continue my conversations with God in the hopes that when God chooses to respond I will be able to interpret the messages I am given and can act accordingly. One can hope, or rather, one can have faith that this will happen. In the meantime I will continue offering expressions of gratitude for the blessings that surround me. So be it.
