13 years ago today, a friend of mine passed away from cancer. Allen was also 4 years younger than I was. He would be 29 today, turning 30 next month. The biggest takeaway for me now is still the shock. I think I had naively believed that everyone would (should?) be able to live a long, full life, or at least into adulthood, even though I knew, even then, that that was not the case. His passing at the age of 16 reminds me that even completing high school, let alone going to and graduating from college, let alone having the 11-plus year now to do life as an adult, to not take the journey for granted. Even though trying to figure life out has been and continues to be a massive struggle for me, I still shock myself when I remind myself that Allen didn't even get the chance to try. But I still get that chance.
Today is Tuesday. I get the day to catch up on the prayer and fasting that I feel I haven't been able to do as much the last 4-5 days. I realize I'm good at "praying through the checklist" and talking to God. Or at God. I don't do very well at listening. Sunday's sermon was eye-opening in terms of the process and the spirit and the goal of praying and fasting, which is to get that real one-on-one time with God. A key part of that closeness with Him is, well, listening. Granted, in the course of a day, either via my pre-planned time set aside, or as my cravings come up to act out with the thing or things I'm fasting from, I'll have many opportunities to pray or meditate or reflect. Even on the busy days. So, naturally, I'll remember the checklist (because by now I've drilled it into my mind), and once that's done, I'll naturally just start talking to God. Which is fine. We all need to process stuff, even little things, because life just keeps happening, one day at a time. It's just, at some point, as was brought up in the sermon on Sunday, we've said all we can say. At that point, it's time to be still and listen to God.
That's precisely what I don't do well. As a compulsive thinker, and as an obsessaholic, I sometimes (often) don't know when to stop talking (to God, in this case). Or when to stop processing. Or when to stop re-processing. Psalm 46:10 says: "Be still and know that I am God." (New International Version) Or, put another way: "Stand silent! Know that I am God!" (The Living Bible) Or, put yet another way: "Hold still! Know that I am God!" (my interpretation, after coming across The Living Bible's translation) And yet, I usually can't. Which explains why moments like last Thursday evening when I felt an incredibly deep peace are rare. Today is an opportunity to try to get myself to that place again, but we'll see.