glintofpewter Posted August 16, 2011 Author Share Posted August 16, 2011 (edited) Integral view of prayer What? You didn't see the clues? I am guilty of using a word, Integral, for which I gave no references and assumed you had been looking over my shoulder as I surfed. Bruce is using four of several stages of development found in Integral Theory (Similar to Fowler's stages of faith development). He referred to himself as a "spiritual type" and he writes But you don’t get twisted out of shape if someone does imagine [that God who receives prayers and then beams answers back to Earth.] This reflects an attitude that tries to honor everyone wherever they are. (And many of your comments reflect this also.) These are the clues that led to my jump to "Integral" From the paragraph that begins "Post-postmodern" to the end of the article Bruce is speaking from and to a post-postmodern perspective as defined by him. I am now just meandering because I only nibbled around the edges of Integral Theory. In Bruce's brief description, Postmodern seems to share the rational lens of the modern stage. From the kindergarten of intercessory prayer to meditation is a spare, dry movement. The Post-postmodernism project, I think, is to enrich and add life to the skeletal remains left by the rational skepticism of modernism and deconstruction of postmodernism. I think Yvonne brought focus to this problem in her "Mystery and Process Theology" Well this seems very dry compared to the many wonderful posts here. Dutch Edited August 16, 2011 by glintofpewter Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JenellYB Posted August 17, 2011 Share Posted August 17, 2011 Yvonne wrote" I, for myself, cannot believe in an interventionist God - strictly speaking. The example I like to give is two people praying for two different families during a catastrophe, one family is wiped out, the other is saved. Would God play favorites like that? I wouldn't think so. To throw out my favorite question, what would that say about God? Having said that, however, I don't think we can really say for sure if God does or doesn't do this or that. It is a mystery, as is most of what we can say about God imo." I think a lot of us have struggled with this one, some resolve it better than others, some not at all. As Bill shared of his sister when she lost her baby, she struggled with "Why would God do this? Why would God let this happen?" When my own grandbaby was suddenly killed, and at many other times of tragedy and grief, even hard than asking such question one's self is being bombarded with them by others. I think the bereaved in general exercise admirable restraint in not slapping people for things said, perhaps well meaning, but inherently cruel, more often than they do. Two ideas here are troublesome...."Why did God do this? Why did God take my baby?" I agree with Bill, the worst kind of responses are such as God needed a new angel or some such drivel. (one of those tempting to slap moments) This idea that God "did this" terrible thing is to me abhorrant and disgusting. Equally so can be the question, "Why didn't Got intervene to prevent this?" So, what? God maybe just likes some people better than others? He would intervene for someone else, but not for me? Or you? Following the recent tragic outbreak of tornadoes in the SE of the country, killing record numbers of people, the classic 'pick and choose' characteristic came up in a number of tv news reports and interviews with survivors...why did it demolish this house, killing occupants, but leave the house next door untouched? Survivor emotonally told their stories of near-disaster, and often part of it was that they believed it was prayer that 'saved' them...as the house disintegrated around them, they prayed, and God placed His sheltering hand upon them. Are we really to believe that every survivor was praying, and every person that died,was not? Do they really believe no one dies praying in a disaster like that?? I can't accept that view of prayer. And I can't accept that when disaster strikes, people get hurt or die, its because somehow they were more pleasing to God. The babies of a lot mean people that do a lot of bad things do not die, and the babies of good loving caring people die, like my grandson and Bill's sister's baby. I accept that such events are just part of the environment within which we've been granted this occasion of a life. Who dies, who doesn't, in a tornado or tsunami of earthquake, isn't a 'pick and choose' thing on God's part. It just is part of our natural world. Does God ever intervene, to change the course of events that if played out uninterupted, would have led to someone's harm? Yes, I do believe that happens sometimes. And I dont know why it does or does not happen in any event. Sometimes I think we all have experience 'near-missess' that we may not even know about. Such things as for 'just a feeling' we take a different route to work than usual, and we avoid a deadly multi-car wreck that happens on our usual route. Coincidence? Some instances can be hard to dismiss as that. Sometimes, I think it may have to do with that "connection" we talk about here, and how sensitive to listening for it and how responsive we are. I recall an incident that was so startling in that way that others were 'made believers' in this idea...I attended an AoG church a while a few years back. One Sunday evening after services, I engaged the pastor in a conversation about this very thing. he was dismissive, even rejecting ofit, to him it didn't fit his 'magic God' concept....if God wanted to intervene, He would do so directly, not dependent on us to actually carry it out at some 'unconscious suggestion.' He had mentioned during service that he and his family were leaving that same night for a one week trip to San Antonio to visit relatives. (we are located NE of Houston) They were going home only to change clothes and toss already packed luggage into the car. An hour out, almost through Houston, his wife began to obsess about not being sure she had turned off the back yard water faucet she had left running to fill their dogs' large tub. The more he tried to reassure her that she probablyhad turned it off, the more adamant she became. They finally turned back, got home to find their house filled with smoke...thankfully the fire dept was called and arrived in time to prevent major damage. Turned out a chunk of mortar had broken and been dislodged from bricks as the rear of their fireplace, and coals from the fire they had enjoyed earlier in the evening had sifted through the crack, and had begun to burn the wooden studs behind it. Surely had they not returned as they did their house would have been engulfed and lost before anyone noticed and reported the fire. His eyes we filled with tears and wonder as he related the incident in service the next Sunday, He even thanked me for telling him what I had, when I did, and that he saw what had happened as the Spirit proving to him the truth of this kind of thing. And, oh yeah, btw, his wife HAD turned the water faucet off before they'd left. Why does that happen sometimes, but not at others? I cannot begin to know that, at least for now. Jenell Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GeorgeW Posted August 17, 2011 Share Posted August 17, 2011 (edited) Why does that happen sometimes, but not at others? I cannot begin to know that, at least for now. Jenell Random chance. George P.S. our brains are genetically wired through evolution to assume agency and intentionality in whatever occurs. So, it is a natural reaction to assume some divine meaning in these kind of situations. Edited August 17, 2011 by GeorgeW 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest billmc Posted August 17, 2011 Share Posted August 17, 2011 Two years ago, a couple started attending our Sunday School class whose teenage son was undergoing treatment for cancer. As you might expect, their son was at the top of the class’ prayer list. Amazingly, his cancer went into remission and his family and the class praised God for answered prayer. Despite the efforts of the doctors and the cancer clinic, the healing was attributed to God’s “miracle-working power” in response to our faith. Then about eight months ago, their son, still in remission, was killed in an automobile accident. This couple, as you can imagine, were devastated by their loss and left the church angry because “God let this happen.” In their view, God had healed their son and then either “took him” or “allowed him to die”, and they simply couldn’t understand why God had done this. To them, it made no sense. Life is strange. I have no clue as to why things happen the way they happen. While I think there is an apparent order or pattern to reality that can for the most part be trusted, life can still turn on a dime. “Compost happens” and I’m at a loss to explain it. But there is a strong thread - in the Bible, in our Christian tradition, and in our culture – that one of God’s main functions is to act as a divine, personal guardian that is supposed to protect us from harm. Rock of ages, cleft for me. A shelter in the time of storm. A mighty fortress is our God. Angels watching over me. God so cares about each of us “personally” that he is there to protect us from life’s compost. I’m not convinced that this is true. What I mean is that while I often relate to God as a person, I’m not convinced that my relationship with God in any way guarantees my safety or protection. I tend to think that my safety and protection is my own responsibility and that it is my job to reduce the risks in life as much as is humanly possible. Granted, much is out of my hands – tornadoes, burglary, drunk drivers, cancer, genetic predispositions to certain ailments. All I can do is to minimize the risks to myself and my family through my God-given sense of reason. God has provided us a universe wherein life is possible, but it is not a right and it is not a guarantee. Death is just as much a part of “how the universe operates” as birth and life are. As Jenell said, why would God play favorites with people? It just doesn’t seem logical or in keeping with reality that God would act as “spiritual armor” for some and leave others wide open to the harsh realities of life. Again, I freely admit that life is strange and strange things do happen, things which may occasionally make us think that “somebody up there is watching out for us.” This is a comforting point of view…until something happens that either challenges that view or sends us into a spiritual tailspin because God “didn’t do his job.” My family prays for “traveling mercies”. Try finding that in the Sermon on the Mount. Didn’t work too well for the traveler from Jericho, did it? I don’t mind the prayer. It simply expresses our wish or desire to arrive safely. But I would be the last person in the world to do what Carrie Underwood suggests and cry, “Jesus, take the wheel.” I understand the metaphor, but I would not put it into literal practice. If our gospels are anywhere near reflective of what Jesus taught, he warned his disciples that they would have trouble and that following his Way in no way guaranteed their safety or a nice long life with a decent retirement. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JosephM Posted August 17, 2011 Share Posted August 17, 2011 It seems to me there is no need to be convinced either way in this issue. In my view, all a person can do from a positive point of view is remain agnostic or open concerning the issue unless or until things are revealed personally, While i may see things differently and be persuaded by my own experience, it still only seems that way to me. Life to me is subjective here and perhaps life in this world is more of an illusion (as in an erroneous perception of reality) than it seems to be. Just more musings Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JenellYB Posted August 17, 2011 Share Posted August 17, 2011 That we are hard wired to find agency and intentionin whatever happens....random chance? Well, rationally, intellectually, I have to agree with this. But, there are still singular experiences in my life that push that to the limit... As I have noted elsewhere, personal experience is at once both the most reliable and most unreliable of the various ways of knowing anything. As long as we take care to honestly test our own consclusions drawn from experience, it can be most reliable. At the same time, our senses and perceptions and minds can and do play tricks on us, deceive us. And no matter how solidly grounded we feel in what we've experienced and the conclusions we draw from that, it is of value only to ourselves and perhaps one or a few other personal witnesses, others have no sound reason for accepting our say so as true or accurate. Random chance is even itself an easily deceptive concept. Most people tend to confuse random chance with statistical probability, resulting in flawed observations and conclusions. In experiments in which the actual results of a number of consecutive coin tosses were recorded, mixed up with made-up sets, and then presented to subjects with instructions to pick out the sets that represented real results of real sets of coin tosses, they invariable chose sets that most "looked random", by conforming to the statistical outcome potential of any single coin toss, 50-50. In reality, an exact 50-50 result in a set of consecutive coin tosses is no more statistically likely than any other possible combination. An exact 50-50 result is just as statistically rare as a 100-0 or 0-100 outcome. In fact, ANY exact combination is as rare as any other. If placing a bet on the outcome of such a set of consecutive coin tosses, your odds of winning the bet are no better whether you choose 50-50, 100-0, 0-100, 60-40, or 75-25. I know all this. And yet.... When I was 12, my sister 9, she and I were playing in a field along with some neices around the same ages as we. We agreed to a race along the top of a recently mowed levee bordering an old, then dry and unused irrigation canal. Being one of the older of the group, and at that age, long legged and fast, I was, as usual, soon rather easily out distancing the others. My sister screamed, very convincingly, "Jenell! Snake!" I immediately looked down to see that, presently in mid-leap, my foot was about to come down right on top of a large cotton mouth water moccasin, laying coiled in classic cottonmouth "waiting position", head resting upon coiled body with mouth gaping wide, its namesake white mouth interior exposed and ready to strike.....I did the only thing I could, twisted my entire body hard in mid air, throwing myself sideways to land hard on the rough stubble covered ground, continuing to roll away further as I did so. I was hurt pretty bad...seriously wrenched back and hip that I ever fully recovered from, as well as nasty punctures and scrapes from the coarse stubble. My sister was at first laughing, then turned remorseful when she realized I was really hurt. A good deal of confusion prevailed for several minutes, as she confessed to having called out the warning just to scare me, try to make me break my stride, slow me down, while I was crying and trembling at the near-miss and thanking God she had seen the snake and warned me in time....the snake that she hadn't seen and didn't know was there. I had to locate the snake after the fact to prove its reality to her and the others. She and I talked about, revisited some of the unexplanable events like that from our childhoods, in the recent years she stayed withh me before she passed away. She and I and that little group of our neices personally experienced/witnessed something that would forever affect out faith, and yet.... You have no reason to believe such an incident ever happened, to know whether this story just came out of my imagination, or my real memories. And I still don't know why someone somewhere else is bitten by a poisonous snake, and I wasn't that day. Jenell Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GeorgeW Posted August 17, 2011 Share Posted August 17, 2011 Jenell, The fact that we are so wired does not mean that we will necessarily conclude agency. It means that this is an intuitive, instinctual reaction. We of course, can rationally conclude otherwise. I think it is a strong intuition. In fact, I have personally found it hard to rationally overcome. In spite of the fact that I do not believe there is a god up in the sky dispensing rewards and punishments, when my first wife died at too young an age, I caught myself wondering what I had done to deserve that fate. I knew that she was not deserving, so I wondered what I might have done. My rational mind, said 'nonsense' but my intuition kept saying, 'you must have done something.' BTW, as a child, I too stepped on a water moccasin bare footed. Fortunately, it apparently was sleeping and I scared it as bad as it scared me. I can vividly recall leaping higher than should be physically possible. FWIW, ophidiophobia (fear of snakes) is also a hard wired feature of our brains, a feature we share with monkeys and probably some other mammals. Those who didn't have the gene, didn't jump and didn't live to beget. Those of us with the gene jumped and were fruitful and multiplied descendants with the gene. And, so it goes. George Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest billmc Posted August 17, 2011 Share Posted August 17, 2011 To Jenell, As I have noted elsewhere, personal experience is at once both the most reliable and most unreliable of the various ways of knowing anything. As long as we take care to honestly test our own consclusions drawn from experience, it can be most reliable. I've experienced this to be true in my life also. I try to trust my experiences (cause I learn a lot that way), but I also try to evaluate their validity against things such as reason, common sense, other's experiences, the scriptures, intuition, morality, my wife's input, the best of religious tradition, and the pull of compassion. Most people tend to confuse random chance with statistical probability... And it's a well-known fact that 95% of all statistics are made up on the spot. ...You have no reason to believe such an incident ever happened, to know whether this story just came out of my imagination, or my real memories. And I still don't know why someone somewhere else is bitten by a poisonous snake, and I wasn't that day. That is a fascinating account. Thanks for sharing it. I've appreciated your input and all of the other inputs of others on this thread. I think Dutch got his money's worth! I am, at this point, going to quietly back out of this subject because I've probably said more than I ought and, besides, my brain hurts! Namaste, billmc Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest billmc Posted August 18, 2011 Share Posted August 18, 2011 I found this by a Jewish rabbi and thought it was interesting: Why Pray? RABBI RAMI SHAPIRO I’m new to prayer. True, I was raised on Davvenen and tefillin, and I have spent a lifetime reading aloud to God from a Siddur, but prayer—actually talking to God—was reserved for emotional foxholes and college finals. For me, God is Reality, everything that was, is, and will be. God is not a being but Being itself. God is Ehiyeh asher Ehiyeh (Exodus 3:14): not the fixed and static “I Am That I Am,” but the fluid, creative, unbounded “I Will Be What I Will Be” that burns through theological speculation and leaves the seeker in a joyous freefall of not-knowing. I had no need to pray to God, for there was no Other “out there” to whom to pray. Meditation made more sense, and I took that up with a vengeance. Yet after decades of sitting on cushions and, as I got older, chairs, I felt called to pray. Something was missing in the silence of meditation. While formal prayer was for me a musical score without rests, and hence merely noise, meditation had become a score without notes, and hence merely quiet. I valued the silence, but I wanted the sound. I wanted to talk to God, yet having for so long focused on the nondual No-thing, I just couldn’t talk to the supremely dualistic Something. All that changed in the late 1990s when God began talking to me. “If I am truly nondual as you claim, then I am Other as well as Self, the Many as well as the One, the Wave as well as the Ocean. Do not proclaim My creativity and then imprison Me in your lack of it.” I actually heard this. I was experimenting with Reb Nachman of Breslov’s hitbodedut practice, isolating myself with God for an hour or more each day, and pouring my heart out about every aspect of my life. I did this for weeks before I heard what the ancient rabbis called Bat Kol, the Daughter’s Voice, an auditory meeting with God. For me, the Voice was clearly female, and it heralded an encounter with Shechinah, the feminine Presence of God, that led me to the Divine Feminine, God as Mother. “You see, Sweetheart, if I am all things, I am self and other, and that which transcends them both. Don’t see me in the tree—see me as the tree. Don’t see me in yourself—see me as your self. I am both formless nonduality and the splendor and gore of infinite variety. When you sit in silence and your story fades, you and I fade as well, leaving only formless bliss. But when you pray, chant, and talk to Me, you and I arise together to chat. The silence is true, and so is the talk. Just don’t be attached to either.” So began my daily conversations with God, the Divine Mother, an all-embracing presence whose unconditional love burns away the self-serving dramas of my life and leaves me without defenses or hideouts. Her answer to my prayers is always the same: “Sweetheart, drop the drama and look at the truth, then you will know what to do, even if you choose not to do it. Here, let me help you.” God’s help is rarely pleasant. Having my story wrenched from my grasp, being stripped naked emotionally and intellectually and forced to see what is rather than what I so desperately want there to be, is humbling and often terrifying, and always profoundly liberating. And it is done with such love and compassion that in the end I fall into Her arms in selfless surrender. “I won’t clean up the messes you make,” She tells me, Her voice always soft, compelling, and (sometimes frighteningly) inescapable. “And I will be with you while you make them and with you while you unmake them. I will never condemn you, but I will laugh at you. Learn to laugh with me and you won’t make so many messes in the first place.” I think the Mother and laughter go together. Sarah laughed and denied it (Genesis 18:12). She named her son Laughter (Isaac) but feared when he played with Man-of-God (Ishmael; Genesis 21:9). In this she brought much suffering to the world, a suffering that lingers even now. In her shame and fear she taught us how to fall from grace, and hence how to return to it as well. Recovering laughter and learning to play is key to spiritual maturation. But today’s religion and formal prayer leave little room for play. At its best religion is myth, jazz, poetry, and play. We make it up, and it makes us up, and in this sacred invention is the possibility of discovering that God is all. But when we take it too seriously we rob ourselves of joy, lose all hope of discovery, and suck the very life out of faith. It is like graduating from stickball to the major leagues; the game is no longer played but managed. We boo and cheer but we no longer laugh. It is the same in the prayer services I experience in synagogues around the country. Everything is so serious, scripted, and safe. There are no surprises. We know exactly what is coming and what to do when it comes. We call out that God is one (Adonai echad) and rarely notice that God is the very one sitting next to us and in front of us and behind us. We say that God’s love is unending (ahavah rabbah) yet never let it sear away the narcissism and self-pity that fuels the false self we insist upon calling “me.” I value synagogue and liturgy for the community they offer, but when it is God I seek, my shul is the forest, my liturgy the chanting of Her Names, and my prayer the unscripted dialogue of Psalms 42:7: deep calling to deep. http://makingprayerreal.com/about-the-book/read-an-excerpt/ Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glintofpewter Posted August 18, 2011 Author Share Posted August 18, 2011 This is wonderful Bill, I had no need to pray to God, for there was no Other “out there” to whom to pray. Meditation made more sense, and I took that up with a vengeance. Yet after decades of sitting on cushions and, as I got older, chairs, I felt called to pray. Something was missing in the silence of meditation. While formal prayer was for me a musical score without rests, and hence merely noise, meditation had become a score without notes, and hence merely quiet. I valued the silence, but I wanted the sound. I wanted to talk to God, yet having for so long focused on the nondual No-thing, I just couldn’t talk to the supremely dualistic Something. ('technically' speaking this is an example of moving from postmodern to post-postmodern view of prayer.) At its best religion is myth, jazz, poetry, and play. We make it up, and it makes us up, and in this sacred invention is the possibility of discovering that God is all. How can I not like this. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JenellYB Posted August 18, 2011 Share Posted August 18, 2011 Thanks for sharing that, Bill. You give an excellent example of the at-once reliablity and unreliability of personal experience as away of knowing. It is culturally acceptable, even encouraged, to "talk to God." But to claim God has talked to you, that you have engaged in interactive conversations with God, pretty much relegates you to either charleton out to get attention and make a buck, or in need of serious mental health evaluations. I, too, have 'heard', literally a voice, with my ears, not just some passing novel thoughts in my head, a few times in my life. In began in early childhood (around 5) and has been more or less frequent at variouus stages of my life. I learned early not too tell, to keep it 'our' little secret, between He and I. I've formally studied psychology now, including mental illness, and in that context studied deeply how what I've experienced could be a manifestation ANY form of mental illness, and it just isn't there. The most signficant distinction is the nature of 'the voice'. in both tone and content. The "voices" of any and all kinds of mentall illness are characteristiclly negative, hurtful, demeaning, dysfunctionaletc. NONE are ever noted as being positive, encouraging,comforting, genuinely instructive and helpful, whether in dealing with practical life matters or matters of greater understanding. I do not mean to suggest this happens a lot, on any regular daily basis or anything like that. And more often than the conversations, the "voice" speaking in my waking state, they are far more often carried on while sleeping, in dreams that are vivid and memorable in detail. The "voice" as I've experienced has been male, in contrast to yours being female. Could that be related to the concept of anima and animus, each of us are "completed" by the features and qualities of the opposite sex? The "voice" I've heard I've come to feel, think of, as having a personality unique to Him,even though at various times He has seemed as Father, older Brother, comfortable Companion. Learning to verbally respond, talk aloud, to and with that voice, or the source of it,even when I do not hear it, was awkward ot first, I felt, as I suppose is normal, what kind of idiot am I talking to someone I have no reasonable reason to believe is actualy "there"..or "here", or whatever. It is hard to get to the place,psychologically, in which YOU trsut there is an "other" involved, that you are not just senselessly rambling to yourself. But doing so definitely increased both the frequency and depth of the "conversation." The responses to what I talked about, questions I asked, are not always returned to to "hear", but unfolding in events over a short span of time followiing them. An interesting element of the "personality" of this "voice" in my own experiences has been His sometimes annoying, but amazingly productive, use of answering my questions WITH questions...that when I follow up in seeking out the answers to questions thrown back at me, I discovered for myself the answer I had sought, rather than just having it handed to me. Its along the principle that we cannot find the answers until we know the questions. Now, just who or what am I "hearing" and conversing "with?" A truly separate entity from the Spirit realm? My own unconscious "Self", some part of my own mind splitting off into a role of "other?" Or something involving connection with some greater shared consciouusness? I don't know. Does that matter? I don't think it does. At now almost 63 years old, and having and engaged in communications with this "other" since about 5 yrs old, andhaving found "Him" or "it" or whatever, to have been invariably positive, helpfull, kind, compassionate, caring, accurately "knowing", and truthful, I have built up a deep trust in it. How anyone else might or might not experience something like this, I can't say anything, really. It's such a personal experience, and the very nature of that leads me to think it would have to be for any other, and very personally "tailored" to their personality, experiences, and world-view. Jenell Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
minsocal Posted August 19, 2011 Share Posted August 19, 2011 More often than not, I now conclude a prayer with "... and thank you G-d for listening, that's what I really needed just now." Myron 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JenellYB Posted August 19, 2011 Share Posted August 19, 2011 For sure, Myron...so much, so much, that we just can't say to any one else, but we just so need to tell somebody that will just listen, not judge, and care. I am reminded of something I read about Mother Theresa...she had spoken of conversations with God,,,she was asked "What do you say to God?"She thought a minute, responded, "not much really..mostly I just listen..." Then she was asked, "And what does God say to you?" to which she responded, "not much really...mostly He just listens." Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Raven Posted May 31, 2012 Share Posted May 31, 2012 (edited) "God answers every prayer; sometimes the answer is 'No.'" Someone told me that once when I was much younger, and it has stuck with me. You can ask anything you want of God, if you choose to, but it doesn't mean you'll get it. For me, I believe that things work out in the universe the way they're meant to, though sometimes it can be painful and awful. I know that sounds weird, and I don't mean to offend anyone. I don't know why some people are saved from death and some are not. I don't know why some evil people live to be 100 and innocent babies die - I don't have the answer to that. I find some comfort, naive as it may seem, in knowing that some things are simply beyond our knowing. We judge situations based on our own concept of them. Fair and unfair are graded against what we know of life. What we know of life is quite small, considering how big everything else is. In the large scheme of things, larger than is beyond human understanding, there is, I hope, a purpose for things we can't understand. Using the phrase "God's plan" is a bit fundy for my taste, but that's the closest way I can think to explain it. It's not much, but it gives me comfort. I will be 30 this year. For literally half my life now, I have suffered, daily, with a chronic illness. Treatable but not curable, destined to likely worsen with age, and it has made my life difficult beyond explanation. Why? I'm not a bad person. Ok, I'm not a perfect person either, but why would God afflict me and not someone else? It hardly seems fair. I have moments of exasperation. God and I have talked many times about this - mostly me being angry, or sad, or bitter that I have missed out on some life moments because of this illness. But you know, if I'm being totally honest here, I've learned things about myself I wouldn't have otherwise. Unlike people who are never sick, I know what I'm made of. I know what I can handle. I'm stronger now that I was in the beginning, because of everything I've been through. I bear scars, physical and emotional ones, and they are a roadmap of my journey. And I have to believe, with every piece of myself, that this is part of a larger plan that I cannot fathom. Do I wish to be free of this disease? Of course I do - but I asked God, and he said, "No." I may not know the reason until the moment of my death, but I feel certain there is one. (Again, that was not intended to hurt anyone or ignore the pains they have been through - my apologies if anyone is offended by anything I wrote.) Edited May 31, 2012 by Raven 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GeorgeW Posted May 31, 2012 Share Posted May 31, 2012 (Again, that was not intended to hurt anyone or ignore the pains they have been through - my apologies if anyone is offended by anything I wrote.) Raven, While some would differ with your understanding of prayer and theodicy (innocent suffering), I don't think anyone could reasonably object to your view. It is benign and it gives you comfort - who could challenge that? George Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Raven Posted May 31, 2012 Share Posted May 31, 2012 Thank you, George. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
glintofpewter Posted June 1, 2012 Author Share Posted June 1, 2012 Raven, It was a wonderfully open and honest description of your prayer life. thank you. Dutch Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Raven Posted June 1, 2012 Share Posted June 1, 2012 Thank you, Dutch. I have been enjoying reading everyone's ideas and opinions. This thread was an excellent idea! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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