Letting Go

In college I became a sprinter. 

Unlike more motivated people, I became a sprinter out of necessity. 

Freshman year may have been the only year in which I was a standard walker. After that, the odds of seeing me early for a class was equivalent to the likelihood of Elizabeth Taylor settling down with one man: rare, and hardly conceivable. 

And that is the short version of how I came to own my first pair of Nike sneakers. 

Until one day I decided to make myself show up early for classes. But there was a problem: I realized running to class rid me of all my nervous energy. Now I wasn't sure what to do with myself during those in-between moments.

Around the same time,  I found an old beaded bracelet, hiding under a shelf in my room. It's one of those possessions you've always noticed, but whose origins you've never questioned. After its discovery, I decided to fasten it to my key chain as to save it from being one more random nick-knack taking up space.

Playing with my mysterious talisman one morning - examining the glossy face of each bead, counting back and forth the number of each similarly colored round face - my comparative religion teacher introduced the topic for the days class. 

'Prayer beads,' she said, 'are used as a form of meditative devotion in nearly every religion.' In Islam they are called Misbaha, Tasbih or Tesbih: and usually have either 93 or 99 beads. Buddhists and Hindus use the Japa Mala, with four repetitions of 27 beads. And of course, Catholics often pray using a Rosary. When the fingers are able to follow a repetitive row of beads, the mind is not required to count: and is therefore unoccupied, available to focus on the prayers themselves. 

It sounded like a nifty idea, so how to get started?

Firstly, I wasn't sure of the requirements for prayer beads - did they need to be blessed by someone? Are you required to say the same prayer over and over, or could I invent new prayers for each bead? Were only Italian grandmothers and vegan-patchouli-smelling-sitar-playing hipsters allowed to carry them without a permit? Exactly how many Deepak Chopra books would I have to read before being allowed to use my prayer beads?

Back home I have a nice pink rosary from my Sunday School days: but being a fall away Catholic, I hardly expected to emerge a devout Buddhist. In any event, I figured I'd begin there. 

Rosaries, as it turns out, have a lot of beads. Not to mention, you're mostly saying the Hail Mary - one of my least favorite prayers growing up. I always felt icky saying, "thy womb". 

I'm not comfortable with my womb, let alone thy's....

No, I needed something shorter. Something portable and innocuous enough to be seen in public. My goofy keychain - with its variety of highlighter color beads - sounded like the perfect fit. 

After a lot of consideration, I decided to assign the name of someone I considered an enemy to each bead. Jesus says to pray for your enemies. But I never prayerfully thought about my enemies. For me, prayer was always reserved for the people I liked, the people I wanted to prosper. If I'm being honest, this is just another way of saying my prayers are always reserved for people who like me. 

Praying for my enemies by name, multiple times a day, was a new experience. 

My first prayers were less then Saint-like: "Heavenly Father, please help such-and-such stop acting like such a prick."

If you made a mix tape of my daily prayer offerings, they might include such titles as: "Teach Her to Shut Her Big Mouth", "Smite Them All", "A Backstabbers Lament", and the all too catchy "Give Em' A Piece A' That Fire and Brim Stone!" 

I'm not proud...

They (who ever 'they' are) say it takes 21 days to create a habit. In my experience, it takes about 14. Because after two weeks of sporadically praying through the names on my bracelet, a rhythm began to emerge. Walking to class, waiting in line for lunch, sitting in traffic.... every liminal moment became an opportunity to pray for my enemies. And once that happened, they became a part of my daily life. Hearing their names time after time slowly dulled my lingering bitterness against them. It reminded me they are ordinary folk, like me: each with their own perspective. And maybe in their eyes whatever made me dislike them, was not such a big deal after all.

Slowly but surely I began to feel like I was on their side. Almost like a representative before God: Pleading with the heavenly courts to show them favor. And hoping in some way this would reconcile us. 

When I found myself forgiving one of my bead-persons, I would exchange their name for someone else's or for a special cause. 

In the Gospel of Matthew Jesus tells the crowd "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened." (Matthew 7) I used to believe the 'receiving' (the healing, the door being opened, the blessing, etc) happened as a result of the asking, seeking and knocking. What my craft-project-key-chain taught me, is the receiving happens in the asking. 

 
No one I prayed for magically called me up to make amends. I never spoke to any one, no one changed into a new kind of person... but in my asking and seeking, the damaged part of me healed. Theoretically God could reach down his Hand and smite our enemies. But even if he did, it doesn't mean we'd get over our anger. How I feel about you, doesn't have to have anything to do with how you feel about me. 

At some point I lost the bracelet. Eventually the ratty cord frayed and tore, no doubt due from to my constant tugging at it. After that I kind of forgot about my little prayer-project. It was only recently as I read from one of Paul's letters I realized I don't consider anyone an enemy. I really did let my anger go. So now I pray for all those people that would consider me an enemy: all the people I've hurt, betrayed, lied to, disappointed,  gossiped about, insulted, judged and criticized in one way or another. I hope they will somehow find healing from the brokenness I've caused. Then, maybe, we can both be free.


Maybe when we can let go of our our enemies, our enemies can let go of us.