God, What would you have me say?

This is what my new friend Jenny asks each time she sits down to write.

My palms sweat even writing that question. Who am I to speak of God? To invoke it into my writing, transparently, for you to know and see and experience?

Which really just translates to, Who am I to soften? To be more vulnerable exposing who I've grown into? To be honest about my faith, in a world where having it makes me feel like a total freak?

Which REALLY just translates to, Is admitting faith safe? Will believing in something unexplainable by "modern science's" terms, make me less lovable or approved of or legitimate to you wonderful people out there?

And then there's this image of how I really look, how I really feel, when it comes to my relationship with the greatest mystery of all: quiet, calm, glad, deeply deeply rooted.

I call Jenny Earth Angel because meeting her changed my life. She asked me the first time we got together for coffee, Do you know that you have guardian angels? 

It reminded me of the time Darrell asked me, Do you know that you have a spirit song in you? That everything is connected to the Great Spirit, that everything is spiritual?

It reminded me of the time the soulcaller looked straight through my eyes and said, Do you know that this is your work? To do what I am doing?

Each time, my response was an immediate Yes. My insides know, know, know. But my outsides are a whole other story. They scurry at the thought of being perceived as illegitimate, flukey, irrational, new age bull shit. I don't exactly know how to talk about the messy journey of faith and freedom. God. The Universe. Spirit. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I'm used to talking to convince. Because I'm scared of what not convincing might mean. I'm scared of being called Wrong, of being burned at the stake for believing in and accessing the mysterious powers of the universe. I'm both afraid of being cut off from the power of God and of accessing it. Which is really just a translation to my own power. I'm still not all that comfortable with it.

But I've been practicing on the inside (a LOT). And hiding on the outside (a bit).

Until now. Until I'm starting to realize that "my power" isn't really about "me", it's about everything. It's about being tapped into the truth that asks us to come home to Love. It's about traveling home, and helping others who long to, do the same.

And so I just want to be out of the closet. Humbly, messily, earnestly. I just want you to know that when I show up to work with you, to love you, to support or honor or challenge or praise you, I do it with my whole being in a humble devotion of faith and trust. I believe in leaning into the rich mystery of life. That within every mystery is a difficult, liberating truth. And for now, that's how I experience what I'm calling God--as the truth at the center when I let myself feel it. Sometimes it's rational, sometimes it's hardly imaginable. But somehow, it's there. It's usually full of an immense immeasurable Love. Like a heartbeat in the center of existence--the pulse that holds everything together. How? What? Why? I cannot know, exactly, but I can say thank you--for its strength, its life force, its continual presence even when I forget the magic of it.

Sometimes, I don't want to say thank you because I can hardly feel the Love. And that's okay. Faith isn't all blue skies. Life isn't all blue skies. But having faith amidst the shit is a devotion I came to when I lost everything I thought I knew, when I could barely get out of bed for over a year, so emotionally and spiritually spent. It was a way of survival, and has become an invaluable compass for me, now.

So, God, What would you have me say?

Thank you, sweet people out there, for being here, for reading. I'm over here with my light on, in case you're seeking a safe space to reveal your faith, doubts, desires, truths.

And if you're looking for a place to begin, I offer you (oh so vulnerably!) this tiny prayer, good for anytime, any day, anywhere, anyhow....

Dear God,
Are you there? What have I forgotten to trust? What truth will help lead me home? Thank you, thank you, thank you.

All my deepest love,
Rachael

PS--I feel the need to say that I was raised Jewish, but in a much more cultural than religious setting. I was never taught prayer, never talked to of "spirit" or "God", so for me, I don't carry much religious baggage with the word God (except that it couldn't possibly be valuable if I was never really introduced to it--which... ha! is definitely some baggage!). It's all sort of a wobbly invention for me, combined with general socializations. I say this mostly to be sensitive to all the ways different people relate to God, religion, spirituality. That what I'm really talking about is faith and trust... having a practice of finding your way home to the truths that sets you free.