BENT FIGURE OF A WOMAN: Meditation on Vincent Van Gogh’s Picture

            There seems to be an unspoken weariness expressed by her posture. It mimics and mirrors the weariness of our own souls. Perhaps the day’s chores have been completed, leaving an inner “depleted-ness.” Her head is resting on her left hand as if it has no energy of its own. Even the most simple of tasks, holding the head up, is unthinkable at this moment.

          The right hand is lifelessly drooped over her knee as if it too needs support and help. Having worked and fulfilled the day’s pressing demands, it now rests in exhaustion.

          For some reason the word “resignation” seems appropriate to depict her entire demeanor. What is she resigned to? Has a loved one left her? Has her heart been broken? Are the pressing responsibilities more than she can bear? Does the future seem hopeless with no hint of change?

          The eyes looking downward and over to the side are telling indeed. They seem to ask the question, “Why are you bothering me with your empty promises? Things are not going to get better. Why should I care anymore?” These burning questions are responses to the false hopes uttered by one who has stepped out of her view. Those false hopes ring so hollow, echoes of emptiness reverberating in the chambers of her lonely heart.

          Purpose and motivation have been crushed by the weight of obligations never letting up. Something about her bent figure seated in a chair echoes the contours of our own inner life. Too often our own unspoken weariness comes from a loss of vision within. The boss had piled on another deadline. The children have been sick one too many times. My spouse has misunderstood me and hurt my feelings again. Another unexpected bill has arrived in the mail. Facebook has de-friended me from another friend.

          How can we go on in the face of such “depleted-ness?” Somehow the energy to go on can no longer be mustered. Her own fatigue has forced her heart to create space for God. This woman may very well be engaged in “weary prayer.” Such a prayer would be the inner groanings escaping from a wearied soul. These type of prayers know the fullness of empty words. They are prayed out of truthfulness in the heart when the mind is too numb to function any more.

          If I were to draw a graphic with my own bent figure in the chair, what would it look like? What clothes would I be wearing? How would my head be resting? Where would I be casting my gaze? What would my hands be doing, if anything?

          Often at the end of a long, exhausting day a couch or lounge chair provides the perfect respite for the depleted soul. How do I recoup and regroup from the day’s demands? Limitations of my personhood create caverns in the psyche where self-doubt, fear and rejection take up residence and spread quietly like a deadly cancer.

Do I allow God to embrace my soul and refresh me? My own “weary prayers” are the lifeline to a caring God. God sees the weariness and personal exhaustion. God accepts the failures, provides clarity of vision and defines purpose for my life.

My own “bent-ness” is noticed by a loving and compassionate God.

 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV).

ETERNITY UNTO ETERNITY

“O God, who art from eternity unto eternity, and art not at one time in one place because all times and places are in Thee…” (Baillie, A Diary of Private Prayer, page 65).

In my own prayer and in the prayers that have been written down through the ages, I am deeply and profoundly touched by a Christian’s recognition of the person and being of God. This is almost too simple to say: our view of God profoundly shapes our prayer-life.

Putting this spiritual dictum to the test, it makes me ask this: in what way does a recognition of the timelessness of God’s nature effect my prayer life? You may think of different ways yourself, but here is what I came up with:

1) God’s time is not our own. It is difficult to think of time as God does. For God time is immaterial. He was before time and is after time. For God, time is a parenthesis, and a very small one at that. Past, present and future is the same for God.

2) Patience on our part. Because such is the case, we have to be patient for God to answer our prayers. God’s timing in timelessness does not fit our timetable. We get impatient because intuitively we know we are not going to live forever, and we want to see some result while it is still relevant and before it is too late.

3) Ongoing work of salvation-history. God’s ultimate purpose in human history is the salvation of his creation. What went on in our past God knows how it is going to effect the present and the future. It may be a new thought for us to pray in view of the past.

4) God already knows what we need. Since this is true, prayer may be more for us than for God. The transformative power of prayer itself is seldom explored in discussions regarding prayer. God knows that the very utterance of the words that form our prayers can be transformative when we actually hear what we are saying.

5) Timelessness in our prayers? Is it possible then for our very prayers to take on a characteristic of timelessness? What if we viewed our Christian life as one continuous prayer in conversation with God? What if we were able to visualize the past, present and future coming together in our petitions?

God is from eternity unto eternity. The infinite hears the finite. The Uncreated One hears from the created. The timeless hears the time-bound. Our view of God profoundly shapes our prayer-life!

In Christian love, Curtis