The Sun Rises Even When it is Cloudy

Today’s Gospel is another version of the sower and the seed reading. I think I have written enough about seeds in the last week. I think I am going to veer off course and write about a very close topic to my heart and one I have spent a great deal of time praying about lately.

I am captivated by what it means to have a relationship with God. What it means to be in a relationship with the creator and sustainer of all? Jesus showed us the human face of God, and sometimes that is what is most natural to relate to. At least then, the Gospels are there to rely on for a foundation. But when I pray, I want to know God’s fullness and be embraced in the totality of His love. 

Sometimes I am in that loving embrace, and sometimes the relationship lives in my mind and does not make its way to my heart or my soul.

Before I made vows in the Sisters of Mercy, I learned perhaps what has been the most significant spiritual truth of my life. I went on a 30-day silent retreat using the Ignatian Exercises. I met daily with a spiritual director and spent between 6 and 8 hours a day praying with the scriptures. But to say that is all of the day that was prayer would be misleading. The entire atmosphere of the retreat house was one of prayer. And it was silent. 

Each day, all day, for 30 days, I walked with God. Now, doesn’t that sound idyllic and holy. It was anything but. The days were dry and devoid of God. I could not find God no matter what scripture passages I used and what prayer techniques I tried. God must have called out sick because he was definitely absent. Emotionally, I cycled through feelings of anger, abandonment, desperation, and sadness. 

The Ignatian Exercises begin with creation and end with resurrection. As I trudged through those days, each day being sure this day would provide the breakthrough, I still felt alone and devoid of any relationship with God. We finally came to the resurrection on the 30th day, and I was sure by then it would be a day like the 29 before it. 

But ever faithful, I got up early to pray and watch the sunrise. It didn’t rise! It was completely overcast and cloudy. I was torn between laughing and crying. But after 30 days in the desert of my soul, there came an oasis of truth that nourished me. 

The sun rises even when it is cloudy, and God is there even when I cannot find Him. The word I heard in my heart that morning was, “Stop searching, rest, and let me find you.” I was so busy looking for a relationship with God that I didn’t pause long enough to let God find me. God wanted to be in a relationship, not make a command appearance in my life.

Relationships with God, just like relationships with people, are two-way streets. Both people have to be in the relationship for there to be one. 

The relationship with God is a dance. The beat of the music changes, and so does the heat and the passion of the relationship. Sometimes our relationship with God is bright and sassy like a samba, and sometimes it drags like a dirge. Sometimes it has the passion of a waltz, and sometimes it has only mindless unending loneliness. But the dance goes on. While we might like some of the music of the relationship better than others. The dance goes on, and we know, in time, the music will change again.

Our relationship with God goes through phases and changes. Our relationship with God sometimes hurts, and sometimes it is intimate and joyous. As long as we remain in love with God, honest, and trusting in His love for us, we stay in the dance with God.

The wisdom of that retreat has carried me through may years. The sun rises even when it is cloudy, and God is here even when I can’t feel Him. When I feel most lost, it is then that I need to stop seeking, be still, and let God find me. He will, no doubt, He will. He will reach out His hand and pull me back onto the dance floor.

When you feel lost, just be still, and God will find you and wrap you in the warmth of His love, and together you will dance.