"That's a part of the plan..."

"...Be who you must
That's a part of the plan.."

As is often the case, I am in a phase...this week it has been a Fogelberg phase.  It started with last Thursday’s post and I haven’t been able (or wanted) to shake it. That said, at any given season you can replace ”Fogelberg” with Taylor, Krauss, Wilcox, Williamson, Rice and…well, you get my drift.  But for the last week I have been officially immersed in Fogelberg.  When I don’t have one of his CDs filling up the airspace in the house/office, he is singing in my head and heart.

Dan Fogelberg is a lyricist who navigates my inner landscape with the deftness of a surgeon.  I let him in and he rearranges my heart.  This week I have lived in the space of his song, "Part of the Plan." Written in 1973, it perfectly describes chapters in my life…page after page so full of moments that afford spiritual growth at the expense of any inflated sense of self.  The word picture he paints of a heart that walks the line between spiritual strength and personal humility takes my breath away.  Or as Fogelberg says,

"..I have these moments all steady and strong
I'm feeling so holy and humble
The next thing I know I'm all worried and weak
And I feel myself starting to crumble..."

I’d think I have it all figured out, and then something happens…a memory washes over me, I come across a photograph, someone says something that triggers regret, or sleep just doesn’t come quickly enough…and I am back on my knees ready to lay everything I have…or ever have had…or ever dreamed of having…at the altar of hope.  My hope being, that for just one single moment I can hear His gentle “peace, be still”…resonating in my heart like a mother’s “hush,hush…” when a nightmare wakens.

"...The meanings get lost and the teachings get tossed
And you don't know what you're going to do next ..."

But these days of emotional vertigo are also full of simple, sweet moments of deep importunate listening.  Moments when it is clearly just God and me, and I don’t want to move an inch or say a thing…just in case He is ready to speak. In the last couple of years I have spent more hours than I can ever remember on mental tiptoes waiting for His whispered “This is the way, walk ye in it.”  For months I would scour sacred texts waiting for just the right sentence, stanza or citation to serve as a guidepost marking the way.  Scanning the mental horizon for some lightning bolt that would illumine the vast dark night of my waiting with a beacon of direction.  But the real waymarks have been soft as an Indian maiden’s moccasins in the forest.  A gentle rustling, the barest of nudgings, the tender voice that says, “I am here, I have always been here…don’t you see?  Come, come with Me…”

"...You wait for the sun but it never quite comes
Some kind of message comes through to you
Some kind of message comes through
And it says to you..."

Over and over His message speaks to my heart.  “Just be who you are.  Just let your heart guide you.  Trust Me to be the only voice you can hear, the only touch you can feel, the only light you can see.  Trust Me to speak to your loved ones and give them peace.  Trust Me to keep My promises.  I feed the famished, I setteth the solitary in families, I take care of the fatherless and widows, I lead the lost home… home to Me…only Me”.   This divine voice tells me to be honest with myself and others, and to:

"...Love when you can
Cry when you have to
Be who you must
That's a part of the plan
Await your arrival with simple survival
And one day we'll all understand
One day we'll all understand
One day we'll all understand…"

And it’s enough…for today.

When I think of my daughter in South Africa and how we have both arrived at this point in our relationship where we realize, and can say, that we love one another so deeply – that is when I am almost shattered by His mercy.   When I consider the steep climb it required to get to this juncture where she and I can see one another as we are…without judgment, but with great understanding and affection…I am as humble and naked before Him as I have ever been.

"...I had a woman who gave me her soul
But I wasn't ready to take it
Her heart was so fragile and heavy to hold
And I was afraid I might break it..."

Part of this journey has been filled with nights where I chase my demons.  Dark hours when I feel as though I am lying exhausted and panting on the ground doubled up with the pain of thinking I am no closer to wrestling them to the ground than when I started.  Endless hours when sleep would have been a welcome escape.   Nights when I have begged God for just a modicum of the peace I took for granted for so much of my life. 

"... Your conscience awakes and you see your mistakes
And you wish someone would buy your confessions
The days miss their mark and the night gets so dark
And some kind of message comes through to you
Some kind of message shoots through --
And it says to you..."

And this is the part of the song that I have sung as my mantra this week:

"...Love when you can
Cry when you have to
Be who you must
That's a part of the plan
Await your arrival with simple survival
And one day we'll all understand
One day we'll all understand
One day we'll all understand…"

But, I ask myself, where am I hoping to arrive at?  Where will I finally come home to that will be a resting place for my soul…

"...There is no Eden or Heavenly gates
That you're gonna make it to one day
But all of the answers you seek can be found
In the dreams that you dream on the way..."

So today, I long to be at peace in my dreams, in my deepest desires for just one thing…to be content with each moment that Life, God gives me, to be truly satisfied with this greatest of gifts…the opportunity to:

"...Love when you can
Cry when you have to
Be who you must
That's a part of the plan
Await your arrival with simple survival
And one day we'll all understand
One day we'll all understand
One day we'll all understand…"

For today that’s my plan…and, I believe…His.

With Love, Kate

Art credit: Pensive Woman by R.C. Gorman
Remarkable Editing:  Jeff