Dear Gabriel,
About last week in the temple…I hope you’re open to feedback, because I’ve got some.
Sneaking up like that wasn’t cool. And then when I freaked out, for you to just say, “Don’t be afraid”? Seriously, dude. WTF. That’s like when you and your mate are arguing and you tell them to just calm down. Does that ever work? Since I’m guessing you’re not partnered up, just take it from me, it does not.
So, just receive that feedback in the spirit it’s offered. And if you don’t, well, maybe you just need to calm down. (LOL. Kidding!)
Moving on: when you told me Beth was going to get pregnant, I asked how that was going to work considering her age and that we tried for years, without success, to have kids, etc., etc. That’s just a logical question. But you got super reactive and took my voice from me. And at first I was like, this angel is a bully who goes around creeping up on people and invalidating their feelings. But now that it’s been a week of silence—and part of me hates admitting this—I can see why you did it.
This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. In all fairness to you, you were clear on that. You said this son Beth and I are going to have will be a joy and delight and that he’ll inspire people to transform their hearts and lives. Could anyone ever ask for a more beautiful gift? I should’ve just said thanks. But what was my reaction? To not trust the gift. To demand certainty. To insist you explain a miracle to me. Does anything rob a miracle of its power more than explaining it?! Clearly, I was not in my gratitude at that moment. I can own that.
Now, about your reaction to my reaction. At first I was pissed you “robbed” me of my voice. But now that I’ve had a week to contemplate (seriously, my meditation practice is on fire!), I’ve reframed the whole thing, and I can see you weren’t robbing me at all. You were giving me another gift! You knew what I needed way better than I did. You’ve relieved me of my fear of silence, of being alone with myself, my habit of soothing my loneliness and exhaustion with noise, my endless future-casting and catastrophizing. Now I can see that, when gifted with God’s beauty and bounty—when faced with such big love—the only appropriate response is to bow down in wonder and awe.
So, thank you for that.
I just hope that, one day, when this story is written, people won’t misunderstand—like I did at first—and think the silence was a punishment. If they do, just know I don’t think that. I know it, too, was part of the gift.
Zechariah
The best gifts are least expected and often are only understood with time. I love the message.