Thursday, July 19, 2007
Prayer for Guidance
Tonight, or rather, this morning, because it's almost 4 am, I'm winding down from a long night of writing. And no, I don't write all night. I've been having migraines, and so I write, and then push the laptop to Ken's side of the bed (if he's not here) and I sleep, and then I wake up and pick it up again (if Ken's not here ::wink, wink::) and I write again.
It gets pretty exhausting to write book after book. I mean, Flannery O'Connery took three years to write a short story! Writing novels in mere weeks may have killed her. I think it's killing me sometimes. And writing a book that does any exposing the enemy of your soul is a guaranteed way to get on his hit list. And he don't give you no slack, lemme tell you. I wondered why suddenly I was sicker, more tired, irritable, wanted to do God only knows what sin, and my marriage was in the toilet all at the same time. And then it dawned on me, perhaps somebody is a little pissy at me for exposing his tricks. Yeah, well. Somebody's gotta do it.
But that doesn't make me any less human. I've tried to step up the prayers, but sometimes, especially when I'm all headachy and writing like a machine, a girl just gets tired. So here I am, it's almost 4 am, and I put on a little monk rock, heavy on the monk. Y'all know I'm a big St. Francis lover, and I got this way crazy hard to find Troubadour of the Great King CD by John Michael Talbot, Mr. Monk Rock, himself. I got this because the groovy movie Brother Sun Sister Moon doesn't have a soundtrack.
Now, there's the requisite skipping through the daisies fare you'd expect from any self-respecting St. Francis music CD. And I loved it. But then it goes to this other section called, in BOLD CAPS no less, THE CHURCH. I was already involved, so it was too late for me to stop the CD, plus it was way too early in the morning for my bold capped churchy censors to be on anyway. Thank God for that, because I heard this numinous--and it had to be good, because how often do you hear me use the word "numinous"--prayer that Talbot sang gracing my ears.
The words were, quite simply:
Most High and glorious God
Bring Light to the darkness of my heart
Give me right faith certain hope
And perfect charity
Lord give me insight and wisdom
So I might always discern
Your holy and true will
And then he sang it again, this time in harmony, and it sounded even more beautiful and heavenly in that lovely community spirit. I could just imagine Francis and his brothers, singing it in their utter poverty. I tried to envision how they had come to love sister poverty so, and you know what? I cannot even imagine it. I am still asking God what my life verse, blessed are the poor in spirit means. I've been asking for three years, and I still haven't began to know. Maybe this prayer of Francis will begin to unlock her secrets.
I don't know. I only know that I feel calmer now. Blessed by this lovely prayer. St. Augustine said , "He who sings his prayers prays twice." I am grateful to have doubly prayed before I lay me down to sleep.
Goodnight lovies. Or good morning. Good God morning.
Icon written by Eileen McGuckin