Embracing the Sensate Pathway.

The cross was rough.

By that, I mean literally rough. – I can’t imagine that they went to great pains to smooth out a cross intended to torture criminals.

So maybe Jesus got splinters from it.

Even down to the grain of the wood – nothing about Jesus’ crucifixion was ‘ideal’ (– I’ve been contemplating ideals lately).

This whole deal isn’t ideal! God gave us the ultimate “should have been” with Him in the Garden and we chose differently – threw it back at Him.

Then there’s the everyday: billions of people hundreds of times a day depart from the “supposed to be” and He knows how differently things could be and yet He has to just absorb it all, wait patiently and try to impart to us another way we should take.

That sounds hellish to me – like a constant ripping of ideals from your soul by the ones you’d love to share it with.

I don’t know why God made me a Sensate and I do want to throw it back at Him, but I’m sitting here rubbing this coarse cross from Israel (as suggested in this book) that was gifted to me years ago and thinking about the ways He can relate to my everyday heartbreaks and disappointments.

It’s unreal how much of a blow to my spirit those can be – even the small things that some people aren’t phased by and others can bounce back from somewhat easily – but for me, I’m left clutching the picture of the way things could like, stuck on how they could be so much better and why would anyone settle for *this* instead? I’m forced to keep accepting brokenness or else get swallowed by it.

The family difficult family outing.
Hearing that a loved one made another costly choice, when a better option was available to her.
Driving by an impoverished community, feeling the pain and anger there, almost sensing the evil that lives and breathes in such hard places. Swallowing down the lump of powerless that’s rising up in my throat before it overtakes me.
Corporate greed and uncaring elected officials. (How could Flint, Michigan happen? How can it *still* be happening? Why do tribes in Dakota need to fight for water?!)

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And right now, this morning, I’m angry that God didn’t make feeling Him and loving Him easier for me; That some people can just sense His presence as if there’s nothing in between and I have to fight so hard, for such a long time to believe that I’m even safe with Him.

I don’t want to have to buy something to feel close to God: A picture, a cross, incense, a candle, music, something to taste. I don’t want to have to go through my body to get to Him. (And what of the people in poverty or 3rd world conditions, those who can’t afford ‘things’?) Why can’t heart or head be all it would take?

I wish I was a Contemplative: all ooey, gooey, and mystic right off the bat –  but since *trying* to feel God’s love through the means of a Contemplative makes me want to bash my head against the wall (silence, and feeling like I don’t have a close relationship with Him because He’s not being warm and engaging) it appears that God desires for me to know Him in *this way* (so then the other way can’t be really be “better.” Or at least I’ll keep telling myself that while also trying to keep my jealousy of the relationships contemplatives seem to have with Him at bay, also (It seems so intimate, like the ultimate way to be with Him, and also appears to offer connection way more easily)).

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All that aside, I can see that there’s beauty in Him employing our senses for intimacy.

That He would supply sacraments for us:

The cool rush of surrounding waters in baptism.

The crusty bread with its humble taste on the tongue, followed by the sweet taste of wine that burns as it lingers down the throat in Eucharist.

Grand cathedrals and stunning stained glass that draw the soul heavenward; Candlelight reminding us of the warmth of the Light of the World.

Incense that refuses to be ignored, launching itself into our limbic system – connecting what’s primal with the Divine.  

The ringing of the bells after blessing the bread and wine, alerting us that something has changed, that *right now* something is wonderfully different.

Even the use of the body kneeling, standing, lying, and crossing in prayer and worship.

Outside of church walls? I guess I’ll have to become a student, always looking and counting, trying to connect with a God who intentionally supplies the means. It seems like something I’ll fail at and that makes me hate it. But I can agree that He’s worth the scanning effort, the continual pausing throughout a hectic day.

I’m thankful Jesus’s overcoming of sin and darkness started out in body. My priests make such  big deal of the Incarnation- maybe I should study it.. . . all the glorious reasons Jesus chose a body, used that body, and can now connect to us because of the body He’s still in.

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Mmkay. This cross I’m rubbing in between my fingers is still rough but I can feel myself softening:

Step 1: Study the Incarnation. Step 2: Make some beeswax candles. [You can read about that here.]

Morgan (Loves To) Reid