Recently I’ve been hoping for things to work out–for my partner to get the perfect job offer, to find a home we can afford within an expensive city, for my family to heal and get better. At time this hope feels almost like a prayer and I can catch myself saying, “please, just let me find a place to live with my husband that is safe and spacious and warm,” which off-handedly sounds like a prayer except for that my God does not have ears from which to hear.
God as a human-like figure has never been a part of my life–neither has his prophets Jesus, Muhammed or Moses. God was always something much larger than that–more encompassing and more powerful and all knowing. Like fate. Like the future. God is strength. God is larger than the sum of everything. And yet God is me. God isn’t a thing with which I have to build a relationship, it is the relationship I have with all things.
But how do you pray to that faceless power?
In times of need or in times of uncertainty, I often come to this question and it’s easy for me to be jealous of the religious friends I have who find the answers to their questions in a deity who leads the way with direction and “signs.” But I’ve never had that God in my life; I’ve also never sought that and I don’t think I ever will. It’s not in my conception of spirituality. And yet, how badly do I, in my weakest times and my most tired state, want a human-like God who loves and watches over me to take my worries and sooth my fears.
For my devoutly religious friends, this post may just seem the sad meanderings of a girl who needs to find her relationship with God or Jesus or whomever. But I’m not unhappy. I’m not lost. I’m perfectly content in not having the same type of peace I see others find that is only brought upon through prayer. I’m simply remarking on the differences and the comparison of over where we find strength.
These are all just thoughts I have to sooth my impatience while I wait for things to work out.
The universe has a way of working itself out.