No Longer An Orphan

" Jesus said, 'If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot receive because it neither sees Him nor knows Him. You know Him, because He abides with you, and He will be in you. I will not leave you an orphan; I am coming to you. [But], whoever does not love me does not keep my words; and [remember], the word that you hear is not mine, but comes from the Father who sent me. But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.' " --[John 14: 15-26.]


I am always wondering what better kind of world we would live in, if only we still had Jesus walking the earth, preaching and teaching.

The reality is that Jesus remained on this earth for only about thirty-three years. And then He was gone.

I imagine how the disciples must have felt -- shocked, bewildered, bereft and alone, wondering where Jesus had gone, fearing how they would cope without Him.

I can truly relate to those feelings of being alone, and orphaned. In essence, I brought myself up.

 By the age of five, I was putting myself down for naps. Already at age five, I knew which nights I would likely not be fed.  I knew that if I did not get dinner, I would probably be too hungry to sleep. I had to figure out how to get food before nightfall. I figured out how to trade my celery and carrots  with someone at school, for a better snack; or, to show up at a neighbor's house after school, looking hungry, and hoping they would give me a piece of bread with butter.

By age ten, all of the cruelty and trauma from living in that house began to take its toll. I stopped speaking that year.

Outside of my highly dysfunctional family, I had relatives on my father's side; but, they lived in another country.  An aunt and uncle lived in another state. By the time I was 14, both maternal grandparents were dead.

I dared not tell any teachers or neighbors what was going on behind closed doors in my home.

When I had finally finished my education, I found an apartment in a big city. I moved in with a cot mattress and a folding card table.

Years prior, the depression had set in. My motto was, 'Trust no one!'

My outlook was that I was totally alone. That was my Truth. My Way. My Life.

It is not a simple thing to define the Holy Spirit. The Spirit of Truth is invisible. It is mysterious. You cannot see Him, but you can see His effects. I think back to my childhood, and I can see that I really did know that my family was not living according to God's Truths. And so, I figured out that they did not love God.

They stopped taking me to church when I was 14. Church was forbidden. But it was too late. I already knew and loved God's Truths.

From church, I knew that Jesus stood for peace. But, there was no peace in my home, when I was hit and received black eyes.

I knew that Jesus stood for Love of all races. But, there was no tolerance in my home, when I saw how my parents derided everyone different than themselves. If they hated others so much, and no one was good enough, is that why they seemed to hate me?

All those years, I feared: What if I was wrong to believe those things, and that my family was right? And how could I know the Truth, when I was so isolated from the world? When things got too rough, I would sneak off and sit under a giant pine tree, the soft needles making a fragrant bed underneath me.  I would sit looking up at the clouds, and wonder how far away Heaven was?

And yet, the Spirit of Truth must have been around me, or else how could I have decided that I would rather cut my psyche into fragments, than to emulate the lies that my family believed in?

A priest once said that I have a "steely bond with God." But what else would I cling to? In 1Peter 3:17, Jesus says,  "For it is better to suffer for doing good, than to suffer for doing evil." What would I do, become like the ones who treated me so cruelly? Would I become them? I feared that potential outcome, far more than I dreaded the sacrifice I was making.

I still vastly prefer to rely on myself, more than on anyone else. And yet, the Spirit intrudes, softly nudging me. Whispering hints and directions to me. Confirming God's Truth, helping me to reject the lies. It turns out that I am NOT an orphan.

The Holy Spirit comes as a feeling. Once my son lost his favorite stuffed animal.  I walked into one room; it left me cold. I walked into his bedroom, and even though it was a mess, I could "feel" that the favorite toy was there. I told my son, 'Your toy is underneath something in your room. Clean your room and you will find it.' And that is exactly what happened.

Or, another time, I was anxious about someone visiting our home. This was a difficult person, someone friendly one moment, another moment sharp- tongued.  My son asked, 'When will she be here?' In fact, she was late and had not called.  I was beginning to think that she had forgotten. But in a few moment, I could sense her presence. I replied, 'She is just coming down our street now. Let me open the door.' I opened the door, and she was pulling into our drive.

The Holy Spirit points us in the direction of God's Love. The Holy Spirit does not want us to feel panic, or aloneness, or fear.

I used to have no idea what or who the Holy Spirit was? I used to be spooked at these quiet spiritual whispers. Now, I do not know how I would live without the Spirit. I depend on His loving protection and guidance. I pray for God's direction, and I try to stay open to His Loving Way. And the Spirit comes.

Come, Holy Spirit!

[Related Posting, "The Spirit of Truth", May 29, 2011.]

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