Serenity

Serenity is a funny thing.  The more I chase after it or try to grasp at at, the further away it flies.  I have an energetic, goofy, active, and slightly-scattered personality.  There are a lot of good things that come with being that way.  Inner peace is not one of them.  Body and mind always moving, you could call me restless or fidgety.  Sometimes it’s hard to even have coherent thoughts.  But recently, things have changed.

– I was walking back to school after the team’s last football game of the year.  The African air was misty and cool, the sun was dipping beneath the horizon, and my footballers were walking arm-in-arm in front of me, seeping love.  I felt uncharacteristically tranquil. Life was perfect.

– A week later, I was riding in the back of a pickup truck jammed with 25 football girls after a picnic.  There was movement all around me – dust kicking up, the truck bouncing and buckling, people shouting/singing – yet my soul was still.  A single tear gently rolled down my cheek as I looked deeper, beyond the noise.  In all the excitement, I was calm.  I had inner peace because I saw life as I imagine God must see it – as evidence of love, nothing more nothing less.  Life was perfect.

These moments of powerfully comforting feelings are gifts from Above, little “flowers” sent to encourage, guide, reassure, or reward us.  They are wonderful.  But they are fleeting.  They do not represent or promise personal serenity; they only point us towards its existence.

This morning's sunrise

I have suddenly become a morning person.  This is a big deal, as I’m sure my mother will attest to.  I am normally incoherent before about 9am (which is a full 3 hours after our day begins), and even the bishop is aware of my aversion to all things morning.  I’ve been this way my whole life.  Yet suddenly and inexplicably, I am naturally up before the Sun, patiently waiting for him to join me in prayer.  I soak up the stillness of the early morning, breathe in the crisp pure air, and notice everything around me for the beauty of being God’s creation. I marvel at every tiny detail of life.  Looking through new eyes, I start each day with an hour of isolated calm that’s devoted to dwelling in the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  It is absolutely incredible.

I have serenity, the kind that’s impossible to explain to anyone who doesn’t know it first-hand.  The best attempt I can make is to say this: instead of feeling emotional bursts oriented towards recognizing bits of the Divine in my life (like the feelings with the football girls), I have the delight of feeling how Amazing God’s universe is.   It sticks with me throughout the day.  My highest emotion used to be happiness, then it became joy, and now I experience ecstasy at the simplest of things.  But it’s more than that; I am connected to Christ.  Inside, for the first time in my life, I am calm, at least when I wake up.  And I need that holy reassurance in the mornings, because my soul is deeply troubled to be leaving Africa soon.

This is what I’ve surmised thus far from my encounters with dawn:  Serenity is more than a sprinkling of blessings.  It’s a full-on grace bestowed from Heaven.  It’s more than a feeling; it’s a state of being, a mindset, a way of embracing life.  I used to think it could somehow be attained, but I realize it has to be given to us.  Our part consists of being open, really open, to receiving it.  God delivers His grace when we have the perfect storm within our souls – the proper desire, need, willingness, and awareness.  It's granted us when we most need it, if we consent to fully dwelling in it when it comes.

A friend once told me about a priest Bible-battling a bigot who was misusing God to support his hateful platform.  The priest was not silently meditating or softly whispering.  He was active, engaged, and loud.  But he was still at peace because he was being who God made him to be and he was living The Way the best way he could.  That’s the kind of person I want to be always.  Engaged and at peace.