Being "spiritual"
When I wrote about the spooky incident at our house a few weeks ago, Joel's comment left me smiling ruefully:
P.S. Don't drive yourself crazy trying to see God's hand in this. Be safe.
In truth, I'm not one to over-spiritualise matters. In fact, someone had suggested the incident might be a form of "spiritual attack" but later, after it was revealed as the work of a prankster, I told Bob I hadn't bought the "spiritual attack" idea for a minute. Firstly, I'd expect an attack to be person-specific, not frightening the whole household in this way; and secondly, obviously a person must have rearranged all the shoes -- it couldn't be the work of a spirit. Which led to an (ahem) spirited discussion when Bob wanted to know why I thought a spirit couldn't have done it. It's just freaky if you start to imagine the shoes and slippers moving themselves into a line; too much like B-grade horror movie stuff for me. Blast, now that picture's stuck in my head!
"Super-spiritual" people scare me too, but in a different way. I think it's because they appear so perfect and make me so aware of my own weaknesses and inadequacies. Like Mom, who, when I first left home, used to call me every week and ask, "Have you been doing your 'Quiet Time'?" (daily Bible reading & prayer). I couldn't very well lie to her, but saying no wasn't an option either coz I knew I'd get lectured. So I'd just grunt, "Mmmph." And she'd say, "What's that supposed to mean?" I'd reply, "Mmmph."
Mom used to tell me that if she were to skip Quiet Time in the morning, she'd feel as if something had been missing from her day and she'd miss "meeting with God". God, she said, is her best friend and solace, and in her letters she used to tell me a few of her struggles and how He'd comforted her. I was awed and wanted the same intimate relationship with God I saw her having, but on the other hand I was also wary coz of what I saw as her tendency to be overly spiritual. I wanted to be like her, yet at the same time fought the idea of becoming like her.
Her letters were like mini sermons in themselves and made me uncomfortable, not just because of the spiritual aspect but also because we'd never established that friendly kind of footing. Some girls say their mothers are their best friends, but Mom and I never had that sort of relationship. We never, never talked about personal stuff. I'd tell her what happened during my day, what my teachers had said, what my friends had done, but I'd never tell her what was going on in my head or heart. Neither did she. Now I had two reasons to squirm.
One of the things that irritates me is how Mom sees prayer as the answer to everything. It's hard to explain, because I certainly do believe in the power of prayer. Yet I get exasperated when I tell her stuff and her response is to tell me to pray. Like when I was discussing my apartment-hunting activities with her, she said, "Pray that God will guide you to the right one," or something like that. Although I did intend to pray -- in fact, had prayed, it still made me roll my eyes for some reason. Dad, on the other hand, dished out practical advice like things to look for and issues to consider when purchasing property. His down-to-earth realism is the polar opposite from Mom's "spiritual" responses.
There, I've put my finger on the problem: I feel Mom is being glib. The words, "Have you prayed about it?" roll off her tongue so easily, sometimes I feel she doesn't know what it's like to grapple with the realities of life. For example, I once called her up to tell her I was feeling lonely. Boy, was that ever a mistake. The first thing she said was, "How's your relationship with God??"
At least Mom's not the type to see demons behind every tree (thank God), so she doesn't go around casting out the spirit of slumber, spirit of laziness, spirit of... you name it. Even so, people like her scare me coz they tend to see everything though a spiritual filter. That's not necessarily wrong, but... while I do want to live in an awareness of God and His reality & presence in my life, I don't want to be rendered out of touch with this world and start to float on some other "more heavenly" plane.
When almost everything she says (apart from when she's telling us to throw the garbage out or some such thing) has some reference to God, it makes me squirm. I guess I find people like her very intimidating. They seem so close to God and in tune with Him, while I remain uncomfortably aware of my own spiritual messiness.