When I wake early and desire to talk with God, but not fully functioning yet to find the words, I turn to a small book of prayers that I received on retreat. Many are simple reminders of His love, but sometimes, one cuts deep to and remains with me through the day.
Lord, help me find it in my heart
to forgive you
for making me the way I am.
Blasphemy? Perhaps.
Honesty? For lack of a better word, yes.
(This is a long one, so the full text can be found in the cut at the bottom of this post.)
Our sense of self-identity is a lifelong struggle. From seeking friends on the playground, to figuring out what cafeteria table you belong to in high school, to deciding on a career path, so much of our lives are focused on who we are. When I was that kid on the playground, I often thought making friends and knowing yourself was easier for grown-ups. Thirty years later, it hasn’t gotten any easier.
So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. —Genesis 1:27
We were created in God’s own image. I don’t really know what that all means. But God declared His creation “good,” and human beings are a part of that. Somehow. But we humans do a whole lot that He can’t be happy with. When I really look at myself—deep down, to those dark parts I often ignore—I don’t see anything like God. Sometimes, I even think so little of myself that I feel unworthy of being in His presence, let alone recipient of His (or anyone’s) love. Why would He want anything to do with me, who’s constantly down on herself or messing things up or making the same mistakes over and over again?
I know that God forgives me. He loves me for who I am, for He created who I am. But I’m human, and sometimes I don’t love me for who I am.
So I have to… forgive God?
Forgiveness isn’t only accepting an apology. God didn’t do anything wrong, anyway. (Logically, I know this.) Forgiveness is understanding and love. It’s not understanding His reasons (because we don’t), but understanding that they are good, because they are of Him. The prayer later says,
There is so much I cannot understand,
so much I cannot thank you for.
You who first shared love with me
and showed me how to live
I put myself down a lot for my shortcoming. But shouldn’t I be blaming God, because He put them there to being with? What’s the deal with that? But in those shortcoming, I have found His love. My God, help me to forgive You for the cracks in my surface. It’s frustrating. I don’t know why I stumble again and again. But You forgive me, again and again. The least I can do is return the favor. And, ultimately, forgive myself, too.
Forgiving God?
Lord, help me find it in my heart
to forgive you
for making me the way I am.
Blasphemy? Perhaps.
Honesty? For lack of a better word, yes.
In this one repeated blinding
moment of clarity
I honestly need to forgive you, Lord.
I know I am the work of your hands.
I have experienced your gentle touch
in summer breezes
and the warmth of winter fires.
I meet your love in many ways.
In the emptiness of silence
and plentitude of sound;
In light-some revelations
of colorful, moving, living things;
In dead dark night
and still-filled noises;
In thoughts that soar
and feelings that pound;
In good times, bad times, high and lows,
sleeping, waking, seasonally, annually,
every way, everywhere,
each second past,
life-filled full
momentous day,
I am surrounded by your love.
Is it madness, then,
or simply blindness
that keeps me so shortsighted?
Perhaps a bit of both impairs my vision
and will not let the good outside
be seen within.
What reason, traitor? Treason!
I cannot see.
I do not know.
So many things I cannot see.
So many things I do not know.
I have been told you made me
like yourself.
Why then do we two
think so differently?
You made me what I am, Lord.
There is so much I cannot understand,
so much I cannot thank you for.
You who first shared love with me
and showed me how to live;
You whose heart is poured out in creation
and found in forgiveness;
Teach me to forgive your constant
kindness to me.
—Fr. Michael Moynahan SJ
