ffrw..

so, ok, lets back up to the weekend that just passed.....The last days before September and all its new-ness came. I had been waiting for god to really show me, beyond all reasoning and analysis that which I needed to be sure to leave behind me before the new day began.
On Saturday evening at the festival prayer tent, I had figured out, while watching the fireworks, that that would probably be the last time I smoked a cigarette while watching fireworks. Earlier I had come to understand that I had reached the end of the road that i had carved out for me and god – one problem here being the question of how to extend the road, and one being that I finally knew that I had myself made the road. That it was not formed from divine materials or planned and structured by a heavenly route map. I had pretty much just made it myself.
So, later on Saturday evening in the unplugged gaff at Heaton Park, I finally had the conversation with god that I’d been waiting for for three years. The one where I ask him if I have a particular, single evil spirit attached to me, or at work in my life- and he replies yes, yes you do. I’d pretty much known that for a really long time, but either never waited long enough for the answer, or was not ready to deal with the consequences. I talked briefly to hdc about it and while she was reluctant to talk about it there and then, and didn’t want me jumping to any conclusions based on what she said just then, but I kinda just knew. And she said its quite possible that god did wait, until I was ready to handle it, before he told me. Suddenly it all simply fell into place and in my spirit, going to bed soon after, and waking the next day, I felt no fear, only the anticipation of freedom. My waking on Sunday was a pretty sweet feeling, actually, like I truly knew the reality of having been granted a reprieve – one more day - to right the wrong, forget the past, hatch a dream and well, give up smoking. Sitting here right now, I cannot convey in words, only by telling you how close I am to tears, how much I want a cigarette. But we’re not about today yet.. wait…
So, Sunday, I pottered about, wondering whether or not to smoke….it wasn’t that hard a decision, if I’m honest. Bought some amber leaf - ouch, no cutters’ left in the shop for my last day!! – and went to west didders with Caleb. We sat and read our books – both very excited, and both finished them, satisfied, challenged, different……I look books…..
Oh, so, ok, this is what happened – wrote this part later on that day….
I’m not sure I’ve ever read a book that I so needed to read…as Nouwen moves from talking about the prodigal son, ot the person of the elder son, and finally to talking about the father, I suddenly found myself wanting something that I’ve always wanted, but never known why or to what end and from what source the wanting came. I’m not really talking about some deep spiritual longing to be at home with the Father, but more the restlessness caused in me by the selfish nature of my love and life.
To say that I have become self-absorbed is beyond true and yet surprisingly un-cringe-worthy. Could it be that I don’t even care? Possibly. Could it be that I don’t think it’s my fault but more the fault of the devil and so therefore its not my responsibility to repent for it…? Probably.
“Isn’t there a subtle pressure in both the church and society to remain a dependant child? Hasn’t the church in the past stressed obedience in a fashion that made it hard to claim spiritual fatherhood, and hasn’t our consumer society encouraged us to indulge in childish self-gratification? Who has truly challenged us to liberate ourselves from immature dependencies and to accept the burden of responsible adults? ….. what I am called to make true is that whether I am the younger or the elder son, I am the son of my compassionate Father….Indeed, as son and heir I am to become successor. I am destined to step into my Father’s place and offer to others the same compassion he has offered me. The return to the Father is ultimately the challenge to become the Father. Being back in the Father’s house requires that I make the Father’s life my own and become transformed in his image.”
So I approached the evening of the eve of September with this in mind. It was, is, the most far-reaching and yet deeply personal challenge I have ever been handed. I think I had come to realise that the fulfilment of this challenge is what awaits me on the next section of my road.
I went to pray with everyone at Millie’s house. For the first four hours it was nothing that I needed. I did not raise the subject of what I did need, either, just sat there idly waiting for someone to know.
Finally, I went out for a fag with oria (turned out with was going to be our last) and while we were outside we both allowed ourselves to really feel the urgency that had taken up residence in both our stomachs. We realised that the symptoms of our very different problems were surprisingly similar, so arm-n-arm we went in and told our best friends that we had nothing left. It was so much harder than I thought it would be. But that was nothing compared ti what followed….we lied on the floor, faces in the carpet, and pretty much just cried. I think I must have been a toddler the last time I wailed like that – particularly when Caleb shouted in my ear. I wanted to hit him. God kinda showed me that the sort of noise I’d just heard was not entirely dissimilar to the noise he hears from my heart – that I don’t know my heart is making, let alone know if it is heard. I felt tim rubing my back which reminded me throughout of the replete nature of grace – that something I had once thought would remain broken for good had indeed been remade. I needed it. my head was taken to some severe places with god. Tim prayed that me and Or would be able to walk like Gandalf, in the authority to refuse the enemy passage, to tell him to his face that he shall not pass, and to break up the path behind us in the hope of moving only ever forwards. That was pretty amazing since I’ve always wanted to walk leaving no trace, to know my past was where it belonged, and all that….
And then a while later I was talking to god about the whole inward-looking thing, the self-absorbed thing….well I kinda explained to him that the biggest reason why that’s happened is because he has thus fat given me no or very little direction, as in, I don’t know who I supposed to work with, spend my time with, show the same compassion to that I have been shown. And so he told me, quite plainly and simply, that I am not to wait any longer til I train ot be a counsellor, but I am to do it soon.
Hurrah
Oh the rest was long and tiring, involved a lot of being brave and crying, and allowing god to lead the way.
I awoke yesterday feeling like I should be drinking juices and being wheeled round ain a wheelchair and wearing sunglasses and a blanket over my knees. I felt like a post-operative invalid. And yet very very peaceful, and excited and free. But today still I am so physically tired - like i’m in rehab. I guess I am.