Words for Lent

Ash Wednesday ushered in Lent, a forty-day period before Easter in which a person reflects, sacrifices, and repents before the events of Holy Week. Seems like a grave time of year, all “giving up” and self-remonstration. But, as my pastor asserted, it doesn’t have to be. It can be a time of joy. Here are three words to keep in mind during this Lenten season.

Prayer: Is your prayer life all it should be or even all it could be? Are you praying by rote and not from the heart? Lent is an excellent time to review your prayer life and alter it for the better. Try praying at different times of day. Try rewording your usual rote. Read Scripture. Do whatever it takes to improve your communication with God.

Fasting: On Fridays during Lent, Catholics fast. This is not to say that we do not eat; we do. We eat two small meals and one larger meal, not to exceed the sum of the two smaller meals. We don’t snack between meals. How is this spiritually helpful? It requires discipline, for one, never a bad attribute to have in one’s wheelhouse. But it’s also physically helpful: It makes a person mindful of what she is putting into her body. How much do you really need to eat? What can you do without? It forces one to look at the intentionality of something one does every day, often without thinking. And living with intention is a good thing.

Abstaining/Adding: People often “give up” something for Lent: smoking, drinking, eating chocolate…usually things they enjoy. But abstaining isn’t the only way. It can be more fruitful to ADD something to your routine: “I will smile at three people every day” or “I will read a psalm a day,” for instance. The point of abstaining/adding isn’t to put yourself through a trial for forty days, only to shuck it off on Easter, however. As my pastor said, the point is to do something (or not do something) that will effect a positive change in you as a person. It is to change yourself in a good way, to transform into a better being. The hope would be such a change would stick long after Lent is through.

Forty days to a better you? How joyous to see Lent in such a light!

The Space Inside

Lest we forget:
We’re made from the same stuff as the stars.
Glowing, smoldering, lit up from the inside.
Lest we forget:
You’re in charge of the neighborhood and the nebula
keeping track of time and the path of the planets.
Lest we forget:
What matters more than matter is soul.
Even when I seem to forget You,
I’m thankful.
You never forget me.

Amos 5:8 NIV

He who made the Pleiades and Orion,
who turns blackness into dawn
and darkens day into night,
who calls for the waters of the sea
and pours them out over the face of the land
–the LORD is his name.

Master-crafted of Star Stuff

In my last post, I wrote about life lessons from the most run-of-the-mill places.  This week, I learned something from watching one of my favorite old shows.  On the West Wing, a character says, “Every atom in our bodies comes from exploding stars,” and it made me curious to know if this was true.

Apparently, it is.  NASA’s website says our bodies are “made of star stuff:  carbon, oxygen, nitrogen,” and another educational science site says that “astronomers today believe that a large fraction of the atoms in our bodies were once inside stars that became supernovae, and that they were ‘launched’ into the universe when these stars exploded.”

Well.  This is a lot to digest.  I can’t even begin to conceive of how this floating cosmic debris eventually morphed into you and me, but that’s what people with big brains and a lot of letters after their names tell us is the gospel truth.

So if we’re made of “star stuff,” why do we think so small?  Why can’t we see past our to-do lists and our taxes?

I’d like to argue that dreaming big and reaching for the stars is our bloodline and birthright, and to do any less is to deny our very heritage.  We come from the stars, created by a Master Craftsman on purpose with energy, heat and lustre to live grandly, so twinkle twice, make a wish on yourself and let your light shine.

Lifting the Veil and Catching a Glimpse of the Divine

Yesterday was Transfiguration Sunday, the Sunday before Lent. Pastor Helen preceded her sermon with this reading from Mark. Then she asked us to consider what it is that veils our sight and keeps us from seeing the Divine. Sure, we get a glimpse every now and again but how is it that we consistently fail to see and recognize God at work around us?

For my part, sometimes I as simply to busy doing. I’m not looking. I’m not seeing. I’m caught up in the minutia. I’m worrying about what has to be done now, tomorrow and the next day.

But even in my busy life, sometimes something happens that lifts this veil. Often it is an event that is simply to awe-inspiring to ignore.

I’ve blogged  before about my friend who was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Just last week she got the results of yet another round of tests. Last time, the good news was that the cancer hadn’t advanced. This time? They couldn’t even find it on the x-rays. She’ll have a CAT scan to be sure but she won’t have it until her next scheduled appointment. How can she stand to wait? Because she knows Who is responsible for this amazing absence.

At moments like this, how can you not help but see God’s loving presence at work in the world?

–SueBE

Mark 9:2-7, The Transfiguration

Mark 9:2-7 (NIV)

² After six days Jesus took Peter, James and John with him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone. There he was transfigured before them. ³ His clothes became dazzling white, whiter than anyone in the world could bleach them. ⁴ And there appeared before them Elijah and Moses, who were talking with Jesus.

⁵ Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here. Let us put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.” ⁶ (He did not know what to say, they were so frightened.)

⁷ Then a cloud appeared and covered them, and a voice came from the cloud: “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!”

Surely The Presence of the Lord Is in This Place

A hymn for Transfiguration Sunday and Lent.

Name Your Charism

Charism. What is it and what does it have to do with spirituality? Quite a lot, actually. You probably know charism’s lingual cousin, charisma, the power to draw others in through personal magnetism. Charism is different; it’s more like the source of charisma — in instances where charisma is a power for good. Charism means “divine gift.” It is the special talent God has endowed you with, your gift to give to the world. Because, let’s face it, what is a gift if it is not given? A candle hidden under a bushel basket, that’s what.

What is your charism? Believe me, you do have one. God provides us with a charism so that we might use them to co-create a better world with Him. Sounds like a tall order, doesn’t it? All it takes, really, is all of us using our gifts to our greatest capacity, all together, like a giant choir, each person adding her own voice to achieve perfectly-pitched perfection.

So here is your task: Determine your charism. What do you have that uniquely equips you to add goodness to the world? Is it your listening ear? Your knack for knowing when someone needs a cheerful word? Your musical ability, or your capacity to heal others? Find it. Name it. Then use it. This world needs all the charism it can get. And when charism becomes charisma, drawing in others to discover the best in themselves, to grow in faith and love, to glorify God in bigger and better ways…well, that’s the ultimate gift, isn’t it?

Predatory Mom’s and God’s Love

This past week, I got one of those phone calls. You know the kind – you hesitate to respond until well into the conversation because you just don’t know what this person’s agenda might be. This woman is a fellow mom and her son didn’t get to participate in an after school activity when all of the slots filled. What’s that have to do with me? The teacher in charge is a good friend. “Is he always so rude?”

Direct. Yes. To the point. Yes. But does he back down? No. And apparently that’s all it took to be really rude simply because junior didn’t get his way. And to make bad matters worse, the teen was confrontational, even in Mom’s version. This is something she expected to end well?

Still, I understand her urge to smooth the way for her son. Today, I found out that my son had been passed over for a special field trip. With only 10 places available, the teacher had to pick and choose. I didn’t know what criteria she used but my son was left out.

My Predatory Mom instinct kicked in and I had to fight the urge to jump into the fray and make things right. And it’s a good thing on many levels. My son apparently didn’t even want to go. “Looks boring.”

What does this have to do with Faith and prayer?

It is much, much easier NOT to jump in if I have Faith in God.

I have to believe that He has a plan both for me and for my son.

I have to understand that everything is part of that plan even if I don’t know how or why.

I have to accept that God’s plan doesn’t mean that things will be easy. There will be times that my son has to struggle. This struggle is part of his own Faith journey. It is part of what will build him into the man he will one day become.

Don’t think that I’m actually good at this. Sometimes I have to make a phone call. “Stop me! I’m tempted to do a crazy mom thing!” Fortunately, God has supplied me with a steady group of friends who intervene when needed.

And it doesn’t mean that I won’t step in when the need arises, but first I have to let my son try. And I have to pray. After all, it’s a great way to keep busy while I see if my son can sort it out on his own. Because his learning to cope is probably a really big part of God’s plan.

After all, God loves us both just as He loves that other mother and son. And that’s something to remember this Valentine’s Day.

–SueBE

On Grace Alone

Lord, thank You.
Thank You for the small things,
like the primo parking spot I scored today at the doctor’s office.
The spotless bananas at the fruit stand.
The soft blanket I wrap up in at night.

Thank You for the big things,
like a home filled with light and laughter.
A son finding his way from boy to man.
For being my rock and my comfort at the same time.

Yesterday is an echo.
Tomorrow casts a shadow.
Thank You for the gift of this day.
Unwrap it with me as I live,
on grace alone.