I don’t know why but, as Lent arrives this year, I find
myself especially heavy-hearted. In previous years I’ve understood that Lent involves a certain
sadness, but I feel as though I can especially identify with it this year. I
haven’t wept but feel as though tears would come easily if I let myself cry. By
all accounts I am blessed and should have no reason to feel this way. Nevertheless,
I find myself feeling alone. If not for a loving family and friends, I do not
know what I would do.
When I pray alone, God seems distant—so these days it takes
everything in me to simply utter the words “God bless” and add a name. Because
my heart wants a deeper connection in prayer, I pause a second or two after
each name and in a simple, childlike way trust that God knows the details of
the intercession. Still, believing that God has heard my prayer seems to be
nothing more than a stretch of faith.
Praying with others feels fuller to me. Maybe that is because I am
borrowing their faith. I don’t know.
I cannot focus on sustained solitary reading, either. I have
read Matthew and Mark in the last month but nothing really stuck with me this
time. It is more speed-reading than sustained reading. In an effort to read
through all four Gospels, I began reading Luke, but now I find myself flipping
randomly to the Psalms of pathos for a semblance of solidarity. When I turn to
the Psalms I only have to read a few verses and I find it is enough. The writer
understands the experience that I call “welling up.”
I want to eat comfort food often, though I’ve managed to
keep making healthy choices, thank God. Still, the desire is there and I am very aware
of it.
So, I guess you could say I am simply trying to take it one
day at a time these days. I am trying to simply delight in moments: the entrance of my wife into the room, the long embrace of
a friend, laughter with a couple on the mend, the smile of my daughter, the
earnest effort of my son, the light conversational cadence of dinner guests.
Today, the furnace beneath my office worked a little harder.
I know that I should have turned the thermostat down to conserve energy but, to
be honest, I just needed a little warmth. The cold bit my eyes on this morning’s
walk. Even the dog almost slept through lunch. Winter is tiring.
Sometimes a heavy heart comes out as frustration. I find
myself feeling angry too often lately. I get angry at the way we treat each other.
I get angry about apathy and indifference. I get angry when I feel overlooked. I
don’t like feeling angry, but I have to be honest—that is a real source of
sadness.
I know that Lent is supposed to be a “purple” time. That is
what I teach…that purple is a sad color and Lent is a time of sadness. But, I don’t
like sadness. I don’t want it to linger. I want joy. I know…I know…sadness plays a role in joy,
but how I wish it could be another way!
Pray for us sinners in this, the hour of our need. Pray for
me, if you think of it. Maybe this year
it would be good for me to skip Lent and just carry on with Easter.
1 comment:
Troy, thank you for your honesty. I appreciated what you shared and how you shared it. The Spirit is at work in you. Peace to you.
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