For some reason, I hit my deepest points of philosophical reasoning and messy spirituality five minutes or so before falling asleep at night. It seems there’s this place my brain goes to shut down — to filter out the noise that helps me fall asleep.
What I’m left with are things that are often scary and true, gut wrenching and humorous. 

I feel bad for Hannah, who half-awake, nods and responds…”Honestly, I’m listening, but don’t have the energy to respond—” I laugh, agree and lay my head down.

Which is completely understandable and puts me at ease…the listening and the humor of midnight ramblins’ - I’ve grown to call them.

I live life in a city that centers around justice, local economics and equality.
So all day, I’m around people who deeply care about…a lot of things. 
It rubs off.

I found myself saying the other night before entering into one of my half-conscious wonderings, “I find it easier these days to say that I believe in humanity…”
A lot shifted in my heart.
I mean, I believe in God though…. At least that’s the default, right?

Then, I slipped deeper and deeper into a state of faith-crisis. If God is not part of my love for humanity, equality and love, than where do I stand? 
Well, this becomes difficult. I know a lot of people who love others out of their love of that person…or idea…or cause. 
And it’s love. And it’s good. It doesn’t need to be rooted into anything else, right?

You can have great morality without God, right?

Most of these, I answered, yes.
Yes…of course you can. 

But then, something else happened. 
I thought about ‘good without God’ and it became awfully empty and sad.
Like bread without yeast or a house built on sand…

You see, it’s hard for me…to not see God in everything…and especially everything that’s morally good.
Because God has become a friend over the years…
God in masculine and feminine. An endless cycle of comfort, breath, pain and redemption.

I tend to, at times, revert back to this monastic feeling of God. I see the iconic images of Mary with child, the saints dressed in their warm reds, browns and yellows. I contemplate on who God was for these people — God was life — God was peace — God was in the harvest.

And in my most panicked sense of faith, I remember this. I remember that God dwells in the destruction. God dwells in my sense to know Her more. God dwells in this Weighty Ghost.

The motivation of love for my fellow sister and brother stems from my relationship with God — and this relationship with God involves many things. Not just being nice or doing something good for another..but practicing peace and abandoning your freedom to cause damage to yourself, society and others. 

I don’t like purpose driven relationships. 
I don’t like the idea of befriending someone for the sake of some greater cause, especially for religious reasons. 
I feel like I’ve done this in the past as a product of street evangelism and “the net” mentality that urges you to pull in as many people as you can with your story or testimony or knowledge of scripture.

Now, I believe there are times when this is important. When your story and your life connects you deeply with God and with others - but I do think it’s harmful when your friend discovers the whole point of your relationship was to force something into their lives that they may not be comfortable with. 

I believe this is what it’s like to be in Communion with God. Not just on Saturdays and Sundays — but to breathe in rhythm with this peace that we are a broken body and we are the Beloved. Being part of a body means you all have the freedom to move separately — but deep down, are connected by a life giving source. [And no, I’m not getting all ‘Avatar’ on you]

I used to think being called a “Friend of God” was cheesy and slightly more biblical than I wanted it to sound…but these days, it’s hard to separate with the fact that I’m reliant on this Spirit of peace, grace and love.

And at the end of the day when I can barely lift my head..
I’m awfully thankful for this Weighty Ghost.