In my office in Glasgow, I set up meetings - book the room, invite the people, set the agenda. But my God is already closer than my hand, how do I go about meeting with him? I liked hearing about Graham's dream, those words 'making space'....
This evening, I sit in my armchair facing the window, the room is dark and I’ve turned my back on the messy carpet behind. It is my time to be still. I am a little intentional about it, I aim for 9pm. This is when I am alone. I have classical music playing. Then what?
Right let's get started. I’d like to speak prayerful words, or read biblical words. I’d like to put ‘upperoom’ on youtube and get in the mood. Then I could be busy and doing something, rather than focus on.... I'm not sure.
I get up and make a cup of tea. I think about a situation i'm in, heavy on my mind. I think about my people and what I wish for them. I wonder if I should bring these to the Lord, but its a cop-out, it's a smokescreen, I'm hiding.
I used to come to Him gulping for air, desperate for crumbs of validation. I used to come crawling for a break, a few minutes to feel safe and not scared. I used to come confused and hunting for a download to see what to do next. That is not where I am at just now.
I don't know what to do. I see a fox run across the road.
Slowly I become still and I start to become aware of a few things going on inside me. I sense the big stories I am carrying. I lay the headlines out on the altar. I look over them and feel all the feelings stirred up. Huh. Some are not comfortable. Some are joyous. Some make me feel naked and alone. It is almost more than I can bear. I get urges to get up and get a snack. Some feelings make me cry. All these are noted. Then it is all out and I am finished.
'Reveal everything in simplicity and holiness, and then allow the self to die... Let go. Seek nothing. Hold on to nothing. Confess everything - not as a means of consolation but through humility and a desire to yield.' - Francois Fenelon
My cup of tea is almost gone and I'm not sure what comes next. It is hard graft, this inner work. I feel the need to zone out, to watch something on netflix, to go to sleep. But I stay. My chair. The window.
I don't know what will happen. I never know what will happen. There is space for YHVH to be whoever he wants to be. There is space for Him to speak. There is space for Him to reveal himself. I might catch a glimpse, a taste, a scent. There is the chance I may find the sweetest satisfying thing.
Some evenings my heart breaks open and I disappear. There is only him, filling.