Lent

Lent has come around again. The predictable rhythm of the church year is a comforting accompaniment to life's unpredictable circumstances. In the Episcopal Church we consider Lent a time of preparation and waiting…a time of slowing down and drawing particularly close to God. During this time, we are preparing our hearts and minds to receive the joy of Easter…and acknowledging that Good Friday is the only way to get to Easter.

I have considered what I will do to mark this season of Lent… I wasn't even sure I wanted to mark it in any special way this year. I have the germ of an idea that I am trying to hash out…I want to be transformed in one area in particular involving my thought life…and consequently how it plays out in my behavior and actions. I am asking God to first, give me the desire to change in this area, and second, for Him to do the work in me. I am unable to do it on my own…and as I noted, I don't necessarily even have the desire to change even though I know this change would bring a lot of healing. I am not a passive observer/participant in this—my part is to lay this issue at His feet, "suit up and show up" and let His Holy Spirit move in and through me—redirecting my thoughts and attitudes as He does. It is not an issue of having enough will-power--it is an issue of trusting in His grace and mercy and great love for me and knowing His desire is to bring spiritual healing to every part of me. I sometimes feel so alone, but that is a lie. I am never alone.

 

And I can hear Your voice reciting

"I'm here. I'm closer than your breath

I've conquered even death

I am still here

And just like I was then

You can't remember when I was not here."

…

And I can hear Your voice inviting

"I'm here. I'll never leave your side

My stubborn weary child

I am still here

Please let Me lead you on

Your race is already won

I am Your God"

 

You're Here (words and music by Leigh Nash)

Silly Is as Silly Does

I curled my hair with hot rollers like I did in the 80s and 90s…big curly hair. My kids told me that it would take some getting used to, but that I did look like my pictures from college. They had no idea how great it was to hear that even if they didn't necessarily mean it as a compliment. The curls stuck out all over—squirrely like. Drove me crazy all day long until finally as I was leaving work. I had to pull it up in a hair clip—so now I have big hair AND a hair clip….but I am happy to report it is NOT a banana clip. Anyway, for some reason this made me laugh all day long. It has been a long time since I could laugh this freely at myself…it felt really good. (Every time I saw myself in the mirror today I would burst out laughing…I think I will call it "happy hair.") I might do it again tomorrow.

Shifting

I have been really struggling with some issues of late. (I am sure that surprises no one.) Issues that leave me angry and dissatisfied on an almost daily basis, but I am beginning to "get" something in my core. I want to be full of gratitude—not for any of my circumstances, because these are fickle (sometimes good and sometimes awful) --but for the abundant love and grace God lavishes on me. This is unchanging. This *is* something I can be totally sold-out grateful for…and that changes everything.

Chariots of Fire

I just finished watching one of my favorite movies. I always forget it is one of my favorites when someone asks about favorites, but I love all of it. Chariots of Fire makes me smile inside and out almost the entire time I am watching it...such a joyfully satisfying movie. Guess I ought to add it to the list of favorites on my profile, huh?

It Always Does

I had to finish a family tree project for my son last night...my children wanted to help me finish it, but I just kept getting all choked up as I looked through old pictures for us to use. I felt like Todd could have stepped right out of some of the pictures and hung out like we used to. I also knew I was going to have to write August 2, 2009 under his birthdate...I really didn't want to do that. I finally asked them to go on to bed and let me finish it alone...I hate that they absolutely understood...I wish they didn't have to understand such things.
I waffle back and forth between knowing I can do this--I have to do this--and wanting to crumple up in a heap. Thankfully, most days are the kind where I know I can and have to, but I have had a few too many in the last month of the crumple in a heap kind. It will get better. It always does. I fear I am becoming a broken record of ups and downs. I almost feel like someone should slap me and tell me to "get a hold of yourself--get over it and move on"..."you don't have a husband...lots of women lose their husbands"...."your children don't have a father...lots of children never have a good father...," but I know I would punch back if they did...and the fight would feel good for the moment, and I would probably win because I would kick and scream and punch so hard they wouldn't know what hit them...but once my anger was spent, everything would still be the same...and I would have hurt someone else intentionally and that is not me...I would feel worse not better. So I will cry to God, knowing that He can handle my kicking and screaming and not be surprised or hurt by it...that He wants to crawl inside my grief with me is almost more than I can bear...and certainly part of a mystery I can never fully understand. He holds onto me when I lash out (even when I cannot or do not want to hold onto Him). He will hold me until the fight is gone, and I am quiet again in my spirit. It will get better. It always does.

Moonbeams and Sunlight

I think of my daughter as moonbeams—beautiful, shimmery silver light and equally beautiful shadows. I picture my son more like sunlight—bright, shiny light that has a particular energy and transparency. Both are very reflective and intuitive, but each has their own, very distinct, way of relating to the world. Both can be silly, but my son has a special knack for it while my daughter tends to excel in the funny trickster category...both of these qualities we loved about Todd, and I can see their daddy reflected in them. I am so thankful to be their momma.

Nothing Further At This Time

Off and on during the past two or three weeks, I have been very angry with God regarding the brokenness of this world...We didn't ask to be born, but we have inherited this mess, and due to our very human nature we are destined to perpetuate the brokenness...or are we? This excerpt from The Shack (by William P. Young) reminds me there is an alternative to just perpetuating the brokenness. He has redeemed me. He is redeeming me. He will redeem me.

Mackenzie is a father whose young daughter, Missy, was kidnapped and murdered. Mack has the following conversation with another character in a chapter titled "Here Come Da Judge." (God the Father is referred to as "Papa" and appears to Mack as a woman, so God is often referred to as "she." I know it is a little confusing if you haven't read the book.)

"No, I love Papa, whoever she is. She's amazing, but she's not anything like the God I've known." (Mackenzie speaking.)

"Maybe your understanding of God is wrong."

"Maybe. I just don't see how God loved Missy perfectly."

"So the judgment continues?" she said with a sadness in her voice.

That made Mack pause, but only for a moment. "What am I supposed to think? I just don't understand how God could love Missy and let her go through that horror. She was innocent. She didn't do anything to deserve that."

"I know."

Mack continued on, "Did God use her to punish me for what I did to my father? That isn't fair. She didn't deserve this. Nan didn't deserve this." Tears streamed down his face. "I might have, but they didn't."

"Is that who your God is, Mackenzie? It is no wonder you are drowning in your sorrow. Papa isn't like that, Mackenzie. She's not punishing you, or Missy, or Nan. This was not his doing."

"But he didn't stop it."

"No, he didn't. He doesn't stop a lot of things that cause him pain. Your world is severely broken. You demanded your independence, and now you are angry with the one who loved you enough to give it to you. Nothing is as it should be, as Papa desires it to be, as it will be one day. Right now your world is lost in darkness and chaos, and horrible things happen to those that he is especially fond of."

"Then why doesn't he do something about it?"

"He already has…"

"You mean what Jesus did?"

"Haven't you seen the wounds on Papa too?"

"I didn't understand them. How could he…"

"For love. He chose the way of the cross where mercy triumphs over justice because of love. Would you instead prefer he'd chosen justice for everyone? Do you want justice, 'Dear Judge'?" and she smiled as she said it.

"No, I don't," he said as he lowered his head. "Not for me, and not for my children." She waited.

"But I still don't understand why Missy had to die."

"She didn't have to, Mackenzie. This was no plan of Papa's. Papa has never needed evil to accomplish his good purposes. It is you humans who have embraced evil, and Papa has responded with goodness. What happened to Missy was the work of evil and no one in your world is immune from it. "

"But it hurts so much. There must be a better way."

"There is. You just can't see it now. Return from your independence, Mackenzie. Give up being his judge and know Papa for who he is. Then you will be able to embrace his love in the midst of your pain, instead of pushing him away with your self-centered perception of how you think the universe should be. Papa has crawled inside of your world to be with you, to be with Missy."