Is Anything Too Marvelous for the Lord?

I’m not sure how to share my experiences of Lent last year, however, I believe gifts are given to share and I received many marvelous gifts last Lent. So, here is my humble, intimate and vulnerable experience that I hope will bring you joy.

Learning how to have a relationship with the all-powerful creator of the universe is a journey, to say the least. I’ve had deep experiences of knowing His love in a personal and supernatural way, where I can almost tangibly hear His voice and I’ve had seasons of dryness, where I’ve wondered if God has forgotten about me and I’ve doubted those prior experiences just mentioned. I’ve also mistaken my intense emotions for God “telling me something” on more than one occasion. During college, I tried to rid myself of what I called any “superstitious” faith and wanted to rely only on reason and philosophy to be my faith. I stopped seeing rainbows, roses, clouds, gusts of wind and other forces of nature as God speaking to me. Thankfully, this only lasted a couple years. From the time I was young, nature was my reminder of God’s presence, particularly rainbows. In moments of big transitions and uncertainty a rainbow would appear to remind me to ‘be not afraid.’ It was always accompanied with deep consolation. When my mom was unconscious in the hospital for 3 days, I kept asking God, “where is my sign? where is my rainbow?” Moments before the nurse came to tell us there was nothing more they could do, God sent me my rainbow. In those moments and days that followed, that sign was unexpectedly still consoling. I had been begging for a sign that she was going to be ok, but instead, He sent me a reminder that He is with me. I can’t explain the grace that accompanied the experience of my mom’s death. However, in the years that followed, rainbows appearing started to fill me with a sense of dread. My heart would start pounding and my shoulders tighten. Was God trying to prepare me for something difficult again? What used to be an omen of consolation and assurance had become an omen of dread.

I finally started going to counseling last February. I really needed to heal from my worry and anxiety. I wanted to be more whole. Psychology is an important part of who we are as whole people. (By the way, Catholics don’t separate science from faith. We see a harmonious and congruent relationship between matters of science and matters of spirituality, but that’s a post for another time!) I have a long history of family members who have died suddenly and unexpectedly due to a genetic disorder that I and my daughter also have. I experienced the sudden death of my aunt and Mom, and though I never met my uncle, grandmother, great uncle and great grandmother; my mom carried their stories of sudden death in her heart. This is part of my story. It’s not something I think about all the time, but I carry it with me. I’m sure much of my anxiety stems from my hyper awareness that life is short and fragile and we are weak beings. However, when it’s not leading to paralyzing anxiety, I’m strangely grateful to be able to live my life hyper aware that life is short and fragile and we are weak beings. I think I’m able to focus more on what is truly essential than many people and I’m pretty aware of the precious gift of time.

 My counselor gave me work to do and told me therapy is called therapy because it’s work. I like her. I also like homework. Lent was about to start so I needed to make my typical list of the fasting and sacrificing I would do, the extra prayers I would say, the Scripture readings I would accomplish. Did I mention I like homework?  While scrolling social media, I stumbled across a video of a woman sharing how she does not decide for herself what to “give up” for Lent, she asks God to tell her. She went on to share about a Lent where God had told her to do a pretty unconventional thing, but used it to show her His unconditional love for her. By the end of the video I had tears streaming down my face and was glad I still had some time to ask God what I should do for Lent this year.

As I already mentioned, speaking to the all-powerful creator of the universe is not always clear. However, there are times, when I know, with very little doubt that what I’m hearing is God’s voice. God pretty clearly told me he didn’t want me to do anything for Lent this year. He wanted me to become his little beloved again, like I was when I was young and innocent and unwounded, and I delighted in rainbows and nature. And he wanted to give me a sign every day, my rainbow sign every day.

“No, God, I can’t ask for that. That’s too much.”

“You didn’t ask for it. I want to give it to you.”

 Ash Wednesday got closer and I was still nervous about asking God for such a big sign. What if I was disappointed? What if I’m being really superstitious? “Did God say that?” (Genesis 3:1) Also, maybe I heard totally wrong- God wouldn’t tell me to do nothing, would he? I’m being lazy and selfish for doing nothing. I’m making Lent all about me.

“No, Amy, my beloved, you make Lent all about you when you make it about boxes you can check off; when you make it about spiritual ‘self-improvement.’ You do not become Holier through your own work, only through my grace.”

“Oh, right, I guess that’s heresy, isn’t it? But isn’t it good to have spiritual discipline? You suffered so much. I shouldn’t enjoy this season of remembering your suffering.”

“Just let me love you.”

Ash Wednesday came. I carefully went to Mass in-person and received our Lord’s true presence for the first time since Christmas. That evening I scrolled through facebook and someone posted a picture of a rainbow.

“Was that from you, God? Thanks.”

“Yes, I love you.”

Thursday came and nearly went. It was almost bedtime, there wasn’t anywhere or way a rainbow could show up.

“That’s ok God. It was silly of me to ask you for a rainbow every day. I know you love me. It’s ok. We’re ok”

For the new year, I had gotten a book containing all of Sunday’s scripture readings. My new year’s goal was to read Sunday’s readings ahead of time, since my kids are incredibly distracting during church, and online church is even worse. I opened up my book.

“This is the sign that I am giving you for all ages to come, of the covenant between me and you and every living creature with you; I set my bow in the clouds to serve as a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth, and the bow appears in the clouds, I will recall the covenant I have made between me and you and all living beings” (Genesis 9:10).

“Ha, really God? The story of the first rainbow? Are you speaking to me? Little me?”

“Yes. I love you.”

 Friday morning the sunlight shown through the glass in our front door creating a rainbow on the floor. Around 10pm that night, the side of my face felt tight and tingly. I had been worked up all week with little moments of anxiety about strange feelings throughout my body, and even though I knew I had let my mind run away with itself, I got in the car and drove to the ER. In the crowded waiting room I prayed, I wrote letters to my kids, I looked around at all the people who were actually suffering and I felt guilty. I knew I was probably being dramatic; I was probably fine. But what if I wasn’t? My family members also ignored their little pains for a while, until it was too late. I cried to God how weary I was of worrying. I considered going back home, it would be hours until I’m seen and I’m SO tired. The tingly feeling in my face is gone. What do I even say to the doctor when he asks why I’m here? But what if I’m not fine? My mind went in circles like this all night. Finally, my name was called, the doctor saw me, ran lots of tests, including a full body ct scan that would show with clarity if anything, anywhere in my body was starting to bulge. I again waited for the results to come back and finally…they did. I was completely fine- no aneurysms, no dissections, fine and normal. I was flooded with so much relief, but I was also embarrassed I came in. The doctor patted my hand and tried to assure me that with my condition, it’s better safe than sorry. I was still embarrassed. Around 4 am I drove home, slightly delirious from exhaustion and the week of mind-spinning circles I’d been going through. I began to pray.

“Well God, thank you that I’m ok. I feel so much relief. That was a pretty elaborate way to show me I’m ok. Sorry I needed that. I probably should have just trusted in you. That’s what most people tell me about worry- I just need to “trust.”

“My beloved, I would do more elaborate things than this for you. Do you still not understand? My love for you is extravagant.”

I hit play on my Pray as You Go app on my phone.

“This is the sign that I am giving you for all ages to come, of the covenant between me and you and every living creature with you; I set my bow in the clouds to serve as a sign of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth, and the bow appears in the clouds, I will recall the covenant I have made between me and you and all living beings” (Genesis 9:10).

“Again, God? I’m speechless. I don’t know what else I can say besides, ‘thank you.’ I am so grateful. It feels so insufficient to say thank you to you. I am so unworthy of such extravagant love.”

Lent continued on. Every day, in some creative way, God sent me a rainbow as a little love note. It was miraculous, yet subtle. It was not accompanied with intense emotions or high highs. At first, afternoon or evening would come with no rainbow and I would have the same conversation.

“It’s ok, God. You really didn’t need to send one every day. We’re good.”

Day after day, he replied soon after, “I love you, beloved. Here’s a rainbow.”

My kids chose to watch CareBears (which they had never prior nor after wanted to watch). Have you seen the amount of rainbows in that movie?? The take home library craft was a rainbow made with stickers. My son made his fruit into a rainbow. I would read a book to my kids and there would be a rainbow in the story. The ways he sent me a rainbow were creative and new. I finally stopped doubting they would show up every day. I became more attune to thinking of God’s love and accepting it. But I would also go through my day, not thinking about God’s love and then get a nice little reminder, like a napkin in a child’s lunch that says, “I made this for you. I love you.” Just tender and sweet. The rainbows would follow me, as well. They weren’t just relegated to my home. I went to a different church than normal for confession. The hour I was there had the sun hitting the stained glass just right and just beautifully with a whole prism of rainbows around. I took a trip to visit a friend. Her son included a rainbow in each picture he drew- pirate ship…and a rainbow, movie characters…and a rainbow. Lent ended and I wasn’t sure how to feel or what would happen. The rainbows stopped showing up every day and, I suppose, that’s how it needed to be. God had assured me of his love and care for 40 days. Where I had become wounded by fear and doubt, He showed me He is there- in the smallest detail of my life, He is there. Not because of anything I’ve done, just because I am His beloved, that is all. He didn’t promise I’ll never experience loss or grief or, even, more anxiety, but He did promise He’ll remember me, little me. He showed me the lengths He’ll go to to remind me of his love. Now I know it’s all a love note- every rainbow, every flower, every sunset, every person’s face says “I made this for you. I love you.”

If you don’t believe God sent me a rainbow every day or it all could have been a coincidence, that’s fine. If you think I’m silly and naïve for believing in fairy tales, that’s fine. I mean I am embarrassed that you think I’m silly and naïve, but I felt compelled to share my experience anyway. If you do believe God sent me a love note every day, I hope you know he loves you this much too. If you are thinking that’s nice that God speaks to you like that, but God doesn’t speak to me like that- stop that lie in its tracks. God wants to speak to all of us intimately and to show each of us how extravagant his love is for us. The first lie of the serpent in the story of creation, was to get Eve to doubt what God told her. “Did God say that?” (Genesis 3:1) I still don’t always hear clearly exactly what God is saying, but there is one sentence I am able to hear with new confidence, “Beloved, I love you.”