If I do not invest time in Him, why should He invest anything in me? I say that I speak to Him, talk to Him, even question Him. But do I really spend Time with Him? Or am I really one of those who pick and choose how they want to worship, which rules they wish to follow, and still expect Him to be there for them? But He did say to seek and we shall find, that He would give us faith if we just asked for it. Have I asked for anything?
Lots. Lots of things. Lots of hidden desires and wishes that stay locked inside, afraid of being found out. But then He knows them all for He knows everything.
In recent years, I have come to like the idea of a lighthouse more and more. It is comforting, a light that shines in the dark, warning seafarers of the dangers of the rocks. Maybe it is that idea of a light glowing in the dark, that stands out in the darkness, a forever light that doesn't dim, that says to another, "I am here."
There is a candle in the window. I light the candle for my mother - for continuing her own journey away from me. And, dear God, if I could spend more time with her.
There is a candle in the window. I light the candle for my father - in remembrance.
There is a candle in the window. I light the candle for all who seek and hope to find.
There is faith, hope and love. And, yes, the greatest of these is love. But I cling to hope a little more these days. And whether I still harbour any doubts or my mind is still clouded in confusion - but what confusion for hasn't He made it very clear to me? - I know that for all my ingratitude, He still looks out for me. That is, I'd like to think that He does.
The beautiful song, "I love You, Lord," with its soothing melody, came to me the other day. I'd heard it often years before and have even sung it a few times, mostly to myself. It would seem to be a song that one sings when one is inspired or is truly rejoicing or when one is walking closely with God.
The story behind the song surprised me. And I realised that it was all right to sing a song of praise and worship - or even to write one - when one was experiencing despair.
The candle in the window represents the lighthouse that I can see with my mind's eye. It is strong, sturdy, a comfort in the darkness. And that light represents something - or Someone - much more magnificent for He is the light that shines the brightest and the longest for all time.
I can write about it. I can actually write about it. But do I really believe it? Or do I want to believe it? My past journals reminded me that I was in the middle of a spiritual journey when my emotions and my desires got the better of me. My world, which was once filled with faith and certainty - or, at least, seemed to be headed that way - was turned into a giant ball of confusion. A few years later, without having really resolved everything - some things, perhaps, but not everything - I left home to get married. I was no longer a single woman wondering if she should join the religious life. I had chosen the vocation of marriage but that didn't mean my faith journey had ended. It was a different life, even a different way of life, and I didn't nurture my relationship with Him. Not enough. Not nearly enough. Having been raised a Catholic since birth, I always knew He was there. But after a while, I wanted more. Much more. And yet I don't think I was really sure what I wanted.
I could always talk to Him though, couldn't I? And the candle still burns each night, welcoming home those who have ventured far from home, giving hope to those who need it the most. And I suppose, then, that I am also burning this candle for me. But it is not for me alone.
"Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you. Everyone who asks receives; everyone who searches finds; everyone who knocks will have the door opened." (Matthew 7:7-8, New Jerusalem Bible)