SITTING IN GOD'S WAITING ROOM (INCLUDES AN ORIGINAL POEM AND A RECIPE)

 

   Years back when I was attending St. Mary's Catholic Church in Northampton, we had a marvelous, inspirational priest--Geno, our nickname for him. He often would peg a homily around a personal story, something he had heard from a parishioner, read in the news, or experienced himself. I often took notes during his homilies as I wanted to remember his wisdom.

  In one homily, he spoke of a parishioner who had said to him: "I don't know, when I pray I sometimes feel I am in God's waiting room." Waiting for Him to respond, waiting for that door to open so she could feel God's presence.

 

  These days, as I recover from abdominal surgery, I often feel I am in "God's waiting room." (And all is well my friends.) Hoping for that door to open; hoping I will see God's face and I will be my old self again. I somehow don't think this is how it works though.

  But in the meantime, there are a few things I can do and am doing as I sit in a chair in God's anteroom:

--I can and do Cook. I just made a spicy peanut sauce for cold noodles and fresh veggies for supper. This recipe is based on Rachel Pauls' recipe for Asian Peanut Sauce with a few variations:

 --3 tbsp., of creamy OG peanut butter; --4 tbs. of Coconut Aminos; 3 tbsp. of brown sugar; 1 tbsp. of golden syrup; 1 tsp. of gochugang; 1 tbsp. of fresh grated ginger; 1 tbsp. olive oil; 1 tbsp. of rice vinegar; & 1-2 tbsp. of cold water to thin the sauce. Whisk in a small bowl until combined. You can reduce the amount of sweetener in this or use Monk Fruit instead to your taste. Serve it over 8 oz. cooked GF pasta with 1 cup briefly cooked soy beans, 1/2 cup smoked peppers, handful of peas from the garden, and briefly steamed 1/2-1 cup fresh carrot slivers. Toss thoroughly and put cut-up pickled ginger on top. Yum!

--Write poetry as well as read it. I love checking out the poems on each day's Writers' Almanac to learn about new writers. That is how I found Barbara Crooker and her marvelous book of poetry, "More" as well as, "Slow Wreckage." Amazing, incarnational words. Here is one of my recent poems:

            I Hold Out My Hands 

    The men outside are speaking

    Spanish, the vowels, consonants

    falling like sweet, light rain

    over my shoulders.

    I hold out my tree-root hands

    to catch them hoping

    the sounds

    will build back veins,

    skin, old bones

    so I can once again

    kneel in my gardens,

    thrusting thin hands

    into dark soil,

    pulling up weeds

    without flinching,

    slinging them onto a

    compost pile to enrich

    our shared, dark lives. 

 

    Then, of course, I am trying to deepen my reading, praying, and going to church. Some of the books I am taking a deep dive into include:

--"The Sign of the Cross," by Bert Ghezzi, a marvelous, short exposition of how making the sign of the cross over ourselves draws God's presence and love into our lives. Do this everywhere he says. It also reminds me to whom I belong. And it is not me.

 

--"The Art of Seeing," a book about the great, modern iconographer Fr. William Hart McNichols which chronicles his life as a gay man entering the Jesuits to becoming a painter of icons. His work is incandescent, and it teaches me to pray before icons which someone once said are prayers themselves.

 

--The Catholic Worker. I love how radical this little paper is, kind of like a religious I.F.Stone's Weekly. A recent one had a long article about a woman who had visited Palestine to witness the genocide there, as well as a long piece about Pope Francis and his Jubilee of Hope. So much wisdom there.

 

--"Nella Last's War," which covers the years from 1939-1945 and the signing of the peace. While not overtly religious, (she tends to believe in reincarnation) her determination to be useful and help others; her deep response to the beauties of the Lake District; and her generosity to others help to plump up my soul in these dark times. I think: If she and others could survive the Blitz, deprivation, fear, and isolation, I can be brave about my own "war."

--Learning Patience. This is not my strong suit. I tend to be less cautious and rush into things before thinking them through. Walking on the deck daily and watching birds helps with this. Doing Wim Hof deep breathing settles me. Making something in the slow cooker which does not come out immediately helps. 

 

--Trusting in God's mercy and grace. I may not know She is there, I may not feel Her, but that does not mean She is not present. Always. Whether I know it or not.

And if all else fails, I can also scroll through FB, check out low-FODMAP recipes on Pinterest, look at what my peeps are posting on Instagram (and why in hell did they change the format of this?), and hum Taylor Swift melodies to myself under my breath.

How about you? How do you deal with it when you feel you are sitting in a rackety chair in God's waiting room?