AB Gracey

Buttons When we read theology, we read about God's perfection, with terms like  all-knowing, all goodness, all perfection. If this is true, then why are God's gift's so  all-flawed ? This brings a memory to me of Buttons, my cat. He came as an answer to prayer—my  gift from God.  This is what happened. I'd transferred to a new monastery and felt lonely and homesick. I prayed I would "see" a kitty. Instead, I  found  one abandoned by its mother, curled up in the leaves. He was about 4 weeks old, scrawny, flea-ridden, and needing attention. I kept him, considering him my gift from God. But this gift was not perfect. He was not the sweet, cuddly kitten I wanted. He retained his wild streak as a feral, which he unleashed on me when I least expected it. He was fussy about his food and easily upset if he didn’t get his way. And he used to wake me up early, really early. One time I looked at this "gift from God" and wondered why my gift had to be so imperfe...

  I have an unusual background. The kind that makes me want to hide. If I could say I came from the foster system, or did drugs, or had some flamboyant life, I think others might more readily accept me. But when I say I lived in a monastery for over 20 years, I get strange looks, sometimes individuals withdrawing, or even ghosting me. So it makes me uncomfortable revealing that past. I suppose it is the same for others, fearing sharing secrets about our past less we feel rejected. I don't agree that you have to be an open book with everyone you meet. But I have learned that keeping secrets hurts only one person, myself. And so, I am gradually exposing my secret, letting others know that indeed, I was a lady monk for many years, and no, I didn't slap children with rulers (I didn't teach or nurse or do social work, I lived in a monastery where we didn't go out).  I had to recover my old self when I left. I had to regain self-trust, confidence, and be okay again to be me. ...