[SB] Sabbath Blessing

[Molly Wolf]

Humble Access

To everything there is a bright side and a dark side. The dark side 
(spiritually speaking) about the last few (on the whole very good) weeks is 
that I have been so busy that my devotional life -- never exactly 
flourishing -- has taken a major knock on the snout. I do get to church on 
Sunday, but I barely remember even to say grace at meals, much less 
anything else. Mind you, I've never been what you'd call devout at the best 
of times. These are excellently good times, but they are also ... errr.... 
a bit *packed*.

So I felt a bit sheepish heading up for Communion this morning, knowing 
that I had notably failed in my duty to stay in close touch with my 
Creator, at least on a conscious level. I have barely managed to read, 
mark, and inwardly digest the daily papers, much less Scripture. I have 
tried to pray before falling asleep, only to realize that the latter had 
succeeded and the former had failed.  I haven't spent time meditating, 
except for the sort of vague something-simmering-on-the-back-burner that 
goes on when I'm physically busy (and there's been a lot of that). It's not 
that I don't think that God's worth it; it's that I've put just about 
everything on hold except renovations and work-type work, and the combo has 
been full time.

On my way up to the rail, I found myself mentally making an apologetic 
personal Prayer of Humble Access -- you know, the old prayer about not 
being worthy to gather up the crumbs under thy table. That prayer used to 
irritate the bejayzus out of me because it seems to Uriah Heepish. A real 
grovel. But mornings like this, I could see the point of it. It's only by 
God's grace, not by my own endeavours, that I can be in any fit state to 
receive the gift of the Eucharist, God's great self-outpouring for me and 
for all. It's God's doing, and my deserving is really pretty skimpy, not to 
mention scatter-brained.

It doesn't matter how perfectly we attempt to do this faith-thing; we never 
do get it right. I find that when I'm better than my usual low average at 
being devout, I make up for it in liturgical and theologically 
irritability.  I find that when my liturgical and theological irritability 
are low, it's because I seem to have parked faith over on the sidelines 
while I get on with (say) helping to lay the new laminate flooring in the 
dining room. I don't seem to be able to couple devotion and humility very 
well, but I gather from extensive experience with church people that it's a 
pretty tricky business, requiring many failures and much experience.

It's that old push-pull thing: I want to prove to God that I really am a 
good and worthy person, and that means performing. As in a trained seal. 
(Note that I am NOT comparing anyone else to trained seals; this is my 
problem, not necessarily anyone else's.)  But behaving like a trained seal 
bores and irritates me because let's face it, my heart isn't in it. My 
heart is in trying to get my house to the point where I can unpack properly 
and hang the curtains and pictures. I am like a little kid with an 
all-possessing new toy which has my full attention. My soul knows that this 
is wrong, but the governing part of my brain also knows that it's a 
temporary state of affairs.

Kneeling at the rail, I felt a *ping* of relief and grace. As always, God 
knows where I am and why I'm there; as always, God knows that I am aware of 
my failures and grateful for the grace that helps me with them, greasing 
the skids. I will try to do better as my stress loads decrease. I *am* 
doing better, much better, in some quite important respects. I hope that 
will do for now.

The dining room carpet is due in next week, and we should have that floor 
finished and the quarter-round down, which means that I can actually move 
the dining room stuff out of the living room... There is progress, and hope 
on the horizon. This too shall pass.

Meanwhile, I will post a note to myself at my temporary meal-eating spot: 
GRACE, DAMMIT!!! That much, I should be able to manage.