STANDING INVITATION

You call out to me, God.
From somewhere
beyond all my “to do” lists,
beyond my incessant needs to produce—produce—produce,
beyond my misguided attempts at always getting it right,
and then feeling badly about myself when I don't,
you call out to me.

But you don’t just call out to me.
You call me out.
You call me out of the world I think is the only world there is.
You say, "Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away..."
You beckon, "Let me speak to you as your beloved who knows only love for you...
then listen...
and listen again."

But God, much of the time, I don’t hear you.
And frankly, some of the time I don't want to hear you.
Immersion in a world that places almost all my worth on accomplishment
takes its toll.
It's what I've been taught.
I blindly follow.

Sometimes though,
amidst the din of daily life,
I do hear you.
I hear your small voice.
It stills me.
I feel what your love is saying.
I hear you calling me out of my constant doing, doing, doing,
and into my being
for my well-being.

And, I see.
This "beyond" world
that's so easy to miss
is not so much beyond as within.
This is the world of being where you dwell within me.
This is the world where you invite me to dwell within you,
so you can quiet, and comfort, and create.

I know, God.
When I do have the courage to spend even a little deep time with you,
I know you're right.
You're right about my proclivity for productivity,
my piquant for perfectionism
...and all the rest.

And so,
I accept your standing invitation once again.
Today.

“My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away…”’ (Song of Solomon 2:10 NRS Version)