Things went from bad to worse as my harshness emerged with two people whom I supervise. If I am going to be nasty, I should at least direct it towards those who can put it right back in my corner. Yes, it was a day where my body was overly full with hopelessness. I wondered how I got to this point and certainly wasn’t feeling drawn to see any creative potential of chaos. Some of the reasons were clear. Chip and I began exploring long term options for Christopher. He is just eleven and we are at least a decade away from such a choice. We quickly discovered the complexities of such a decision and that we were starting none too early. We also found that Christopher was too physically able for some places and too lacking in self-care skills for others.
As we browsed the all too limited options for adults with special needs, I was haunted again by the nagging question: is there something more we could do now, that would protect Christopher when we are unable to care for him? I heard about a residential facility in another state that did wonders with developmentally delayed kids on a short term basis. Maybe this was the answer to my prayer. I got increasingly excited about the intensive work of this center, which was geared toward developing self care skills. When we got to the price, sticker shock took the place of my excitement. I am quite fortunate that for most of my life, my expenses have met my needs. This was the first time I really wanted something far beyond me.
I realize that there is no single answer that leads to our biggest dreams (or protections from our greatest fears). What I was struggling with was how to get back on kilter. The hardest thing for me to change is often my attitude. The meaning of chaos according to Wikipedia (2011) is a state lacking order or predictability. On the days when bad news looms large, I begin to assume gloom will be the order of the day. When I get stuck in a cycle of hopelessness, I do not see the beauty of the seasons. I do not notice the joy in another, like how Christopher looked when he was surrounded by all his favorite stuffed animals in his crib. I can grudgingly
accept that beauty and joy both follow unpredictable paths – they don’t occur on my time table.
Transformation is the hard one for me. I want to be transformed from this irritable woman who constantly corrects my husband’s driving, critiques my church and its many foibles and cusses the drivers going too slowly in front of me. I want to be transformed into someone who experiences disappointments and sees those disappointments as the first step. A first step that commits to taking a second, third and fourth step until the disappointment has been tilled like good soil. My garden is a mess right now. But if I keep digging and turning the soil, I trust it will be ready to bring forth good fruit.
If there is no order, it doesn’t automatically mean things are crazy.
So, I finally decided to take the next step. I sat down and started asking God my question. Then I realized something about chaos. If there is no order, it doesn’t automatically mean things are crazy. It could mean that the routine is interrupted…. that the next step can’t be predicted. By stopping, I can feel the chaos, the disorder in my heart. The context of this disorder is much bigger than me. In many of the creation stories from world
religions, the world begins out of the chaos. By stopping, I can remember one of my favorite Scripture passages: be still and know that I am God. This Scripture does not predict the future. It claims the only reality I have, which is the present moment. And I know that when I pay attention to that reality, transformation is beating in the very depths of my heart.
Grey, Mary. Sacred Longings: the Ecological Spirit and Global Culture. London: First Fortress Press. 2004.
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