i am not called to be pollyanna

This post is from the dearestdragonfly genre of 'forgotten posts caged as drafts, just now being let out'. From June 4, 2007:

Much as I would like it to be, and often can't get it out of my head and heart that it ain't so, life, especially the really important things, is rarely an eggs-neatly-all-in-one-basket, glorious-bouquet-of-Martha-Stewart-roses kind of thing. I keep looking for extreme of perfection...in all areas. But, recently, most especially in the affirmation category of "Things God's Will".

Life is messy and unpredictable. God's will is messy...and unpredictable. There's grit, there's potting soil. There's dustbunnies, gleaming wooden floors. Sticky fingers, silken caresses. Evil bermuda grass mixed into a neat border of lavender. Attempts to corral, contain, keep constant...simply unravel. "Stop!!! The point of life," I'd like to declare, "is to attain and then maintain the perfection."

In Ann Tyler's The Accidental Tourist, the title character reaches for the hand of an utterly forlorn boy...finding in its imperfect soiled, stickiness a celebration of sweetness. This variety of winningly sweet messiness I can relate to. Yet, it seems I have a certain radar (I hope not a 'magnet'...) for seeing - or at least acknowledging - a darkly discouraging side of things. I reluctantly leave the embrace of the freshness of the possibility of perfection and consider taking on the other side - almost, 'hello darkness, my old friend'. And look for the redemption that follows.

Maybe this is why I follow the Fr. C sermon template so well.

But therein I miss the point. Isn't the messy more interesting? more fun? And perhaps the point reaches past 'oh, go for the adventure: delight in the aberrant, the messy.'

Last Sunday, I cried a bit during the opening hymn. It is my absolute favorite hymn in the entire realm of hymnody: St. Patrick's Breastplate: "I bind unto myself this day...", (ancient text here, hymnal version here with a few 'bonus' verses) worthy of an entire blog entry of its own. Being a church musician, I often don't have the luxury of living 100% into the worship. I envy those who can...natural musicians, no doubt. But as I sang along with this one, with its sweeping, boundless affirmations following after affirmations of what we believe, I got to this stanza and lost it:

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.

Despite doubts, concerns...the spiritual glass half-full is ALWAYS there (thanks, Spaz...). Perhaps my call is to see the end result of redemption. Though I love every stanza of this hymn, this one was the most appropriate for my current state of heart and mind. Shall I be windswept by doubts, fears...loves...concerns...on all sides?

The beauty of redemption surpasses the original, lost perfection. So, I am called to revel in God's hand, leading, guiding, promising, fulfilling. And it is certainly my sticky hand that Redemption holds ever so tightly and lovingly.

Amen.

I arise today Through god's strength to pilot me; God's might to uphold me; God's wisdom to guide me; God's eye to look before me; God's ear to hear me; God's word to speak for me; God's hand to guard me; God's way to lie before me; God's shield to protect me; God's host to save me.