A Conversation With God

Lord, my whole life has been a conversation with you. It has been a pleading, praying, thanking, questioning, frustrating conversation. Though I am not answered in words, you answer me in every experience that occurs. There is no issue about my faith, about whether or not I accept your existence. It is not conditioned by what happens to me in my life. I don’t need good things and miracles to have faith. All I need do is look around at the world and I see an abundance of evidence. Without you and the great wind of your love, there would be, simply, Nothing. Instead, we have a great passionate world, a universe full of drama and strife, of burning stars, of miracles and mysteries. One thing I can see, Lord, is that you have made a universe that is not boring.
I thirst for truth, but truth is not an easy thing to grasp. I don’t want to be this way, the way I am: addicted, afflicted, incomplete, emptied out, wounded and afraid. I don’t want to be this way. But I am. These conditions go along with being human. Being alive and made of this material stuff is to be lost in a jungle, where spirit hides behind things and yet is out in the open for those with clear sight. My sight is not clear. It is obscured by my needs for so many things. I need comfort and enjoyment and every desire leads to a battleground, a wrestling with a thousand demons. I need truth, but I fear truth. I hold it at arm’s length lest it turn out to be monster with sharp teeth, about to rip my personality to shreds and throw me down into madness. I am afraid that I can’t handle things the way they are.

I am like a fairy tale creature following a trail of crumbs through the forest. Somewhere in this darkness there is a home in a clearing, a warm place to feed and rest and abide. I wait for the appearance of that abiding place, though it may not appear until after I die. If that is what is decreed, that I wander through the years of my life in a constant search for truth that is never satisfied, so be it.
My faith does not diminish. Nor does my fear. Faith and fear seem strange bedfellows. Both seem constant to my condition. Both conceal the same transcendant animal, hidden amid the trees and vines. Both counsel me to leave hope at the entrance to the forest, and proceed in spite of the hopelessness of the cause.

Such is a true conversation with you, God.

Prayer for 2009

Show me the way, Lord.

I am always your student.

I am always in love with you.

I will change myself to follow the deep promptings

you have planted in my heart.

Show me not the answer,

show me the right questions 

to ask.  Show me what is right

and I will do it.

I will fail often.

If I ask for something that does not help me

lead me to that which helps me.

Show me how to love, Lord.

Many things pose as love 

that are not love.

Shoe me how to live my life.

I walk in a trance,

I move without being awake

I act without a plan.

My head is fuzzy; my limbs do not respond well.

My walk is tilted.

I don’t know when I’m hungry.

I eat when my stomach hurts.

I breathe air that I have spoiled.

My spirit seems clogged.  Though I want to fly

I have no wings.

Help me to listen

to know your voice

when I hear it.

A thousand teachings flood my senses

until I am falling over the ropes of words

of those who claim to be wise.

Cloudy mysticism is everywhere:

“We are all one, God is in all of us,

listen to the silence within you,”

so many messages that do not bear

on my experience of reality.

I only know what my day presents,

nothing more.  I can feel my fellow humans,

their fears and their dreams.

I would serve and be served by them

if I had something real to give.

Show me what is real, Lord.

Show me a work that is generous and clean.

Show me how to use my gifts,

for you have given me so many, 

yet I squander them

and am left with a greed

that controls me.

Show me what is possible, Lord.

I want to believe that anything is possible.

I need to have faith in Faith.

My senses tell me

that nothing is fixed, that the earthly world

swirls like a fluid dream.  I want to know

what is true, Lord.

If nothing is fixed, than nothing is impossible.

Shoe me how to master it, Lord.

I long to master life, I long to master

awareness itself.

Show me my own mind, Lord.

I don’t know who else to ask, but you.

Show me how to wear myself

in the best light. Shoe me grace, Lord, show me

all the things I have forgotten, all the things I knew

as a child,

before I lost my courage,

before I cared if I won or lost. 

or tied or died or lived well

or lost myself in dark valleys,

before I learned to walk,

before I learned to talk,

before I learned to think.

Show me everything, Lord,

show me all that I need

and all that I can handle

to create me as your heart’s desire.

Show me how to make your heart’s desire

my heart’s desire,

that I may walk alongside you

secure in the knowing of you

as my friend and mentor.

Show me, Lord, show me.

I weep with desire, show me

reveal it to me though it be too bright,

reveal it to me in the bits you deem right,

any way you want to bring me into your heart,

Lord, just show me.

I talk to the world
by Art Rosch
Copyright July 14, 2002
I know, I know,
you’re wondering what
it all is,
why it’s so damned
and why you can’t just
settle down
and make it good
why it’s so freaking hard
to work out
so impossible
to solve
why there’s no answer: no,
not even an answer,
just a way
to be
that isn’t painful
poorly conceived
half hearted
out of tune….
I know, I know…
What the hell is it?
what started it to go this way
and not some other
some way deeper,
more satisfying
more noble
than the squalid human consequences
of being here
with all this motherstuff
bad uncle
mean neighbor
bullying enemy
conniving stranger
evil intentions
ugly ideas.
What is it that made life
so crazy
that to get a drink of water
means murder
to own a house
to dig a well
to marry a total stranger
means ten generations
of violent feud
what happened
to human beings
how did we miss everything
so completely
why aren’t we quiet enough
thoughtul enough
to see a hundred fifty shades
of color
in a sunset cloud
why are we so noisy
so sloppy and clumsy
why do we breathe all wrong,
what does it take
to be right with life?
Look in the eyes of your baby.
Remember what you see.
Try very hard to remember
look in the eyes
of your lover
remember what you see
remember love
and its intricate rich depth,
It’s so easy to forget
it takes but a heart beat
were we talking about love?
I don’t remember.
There was something that confused me
I forgot
and now, see,
what happens?
Now, see?