I'll Pray For You

The other night, I sat with a woman who I hold very dear to my heart.  She is a woman whose honest soul I saw, vividly, the first time we met.  She is strong and selfless and sincere.  She is fierce and faithful and fervent.  She, like all the women who I love, is her own woman.  She is also a woman most people would never expect for me to share such an intimate connection with.  After all, we come from vehemently different backgrounds.

 She was born in raised in Texas.  I was born and raised in California.  She was raised in church.  I was raised by a pagan and an atheist.  She has found her faith in God.  I have found my faith in nature and humanity.  Her connection is with Jesus Christ.  My connection is with the Universe.  From an outsider’s perspective, the likelihood of us ever being able to sit comfortably in the same room is incomprehensible.  So, the fact that we share the bond of sisterhood, must be even more astonishing.  But I knew Cayce’s spirit was sincere the first time I looked into her eyes. 

Naturally, when I saw her for the first time in two years, all I could do was hold her tight and tell her how much I loved her.  As we drove to the market, we made small talk at first.  Then, I heard a new confidence in her voice.  I heard a new purpose behind her words.  When we got back to the house, we sat and laughed and caught up.  There was no pretense.  There was no agenda.  We just shared where we had been in the time since we had last seen each other.  Finally, something inside me blurted out “How has your spiritualty changed since the last time I saw you?”  And she looked at me, without hesitation, and said “I’ve rededicated myself to my faith.  I pray now.  I know how to pray now.  Because I pray, I know God’s direction for me.  I’ve found peace.”  Say what????

As you might imagine, I realized I was delving into a conversation that could go very badly with someone I love very dearly.  But I know that she loves unconditionally, so I told her:  “I don’t want to offend you, but I am genuinely interested in your journey.”  She let it all go.  She told me about where she had been.  She told me about where she is.  She told me she doesn’t know where she is going, but not knowing is easier to accept since she has renewed her faith in God.  I told her “Little sister.  Your soul has always been blinding.  But I saw something in you today that I have never seen before.  Your confidence in your path and your purpose is overwhelming.”  She blushed a little and hugged me.  Then, I thought about my faith.  I thought about my purpose.  My direction.  So, I shared with her my beliefs with her. 

I talked a lot about my creator being unknown and unnamed.  I talked about how my faith comes from nature and human connectedness.  I told her that I HAVE to believe that we have a connection with the earth and with each other, and my faith in that assembly, lies in the Universe.  The Universe is my higher power, my creator.  I also told her that the reason that I needed something to believe in is because, as much as I believe in it, science can’t yet answer everything.  I also said “There are some things that are so far outside our control, that we need to believe there is a reason.” 

We both listened to each other, perhaps with some skepticism, but without any argument.  Then she said something that really resonated with me.  She said “Until I reaffirmed my faith, I never knew how to pray.”  Those words crashed into me, and I stopped thinking about spirituality. I stopped thinking about the difference in how Cayce and I worship.  I started to think about faith.  I told her “I pray a lot, too.”  I don’t look to the bible for reprieve, but I do look to the stars.  I don’t thank God for what I have been given, but I do thank the Universe.  I may not look to scripture for answers to the unknown, but I do try to make sense of nonsense with my faith.  I do that through prayer.  Maybe not the same prayer as others, but prayer all the same. 

There was a time that I would get very offended when people would say “I’ll pray for you.”  I’d think “What the FUCK?  You don’t think I’ll survive without your prayers??”  I didn’t want any of it.  Don’t try to save me, people.  Only I can save myself.  Then, suddenly, engaged in a VERY unlikely conversation with a VERY unlikely ally, I got it.  I pray, too.  I don’t pray in an orthodox manner.  But I pray.  At night, when I all I feel is dissonance and all I hear is noise, I look to the stars, and try to regain perspective.  When someone I love is going through a hard time, I take them crystals to ground them.  When things don’t make sense to me, find peace with the things I do understand.  That’s how I pray. 

I know that Christians hold stigmas about non-believers.  Pagans, who claim neutrality, tend to judge religious types.  Wars over God have plagued this planet for millennia.  These are ideas that I have rolled my eyes at for as long as I have had a critical mind.  But the other night, in a conversation with I woman I love, not for her faith, but for her character, I started to become a believer.  Not a believer in her God.  Not a believer in mine.  I started to become a believer that we all share a common faith.   And that faith is that we can all find peace in our journey. 

-Inner Peas