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Celebrate Lent. Look for Christ’s light in those around you.
“I had to break away from her,” my friend Alice tells me over the phone about someone she once called a friend. Alice isn’t the only one. Lots of folks lately seem to be dealing with toxic people. You know them. We meet them everywhere in the jungle of life. Some are outright predators; others hang back, like vultures, waiting to sink their talons into the weak and weary. The hardest part of dealing with toxic people is that maybe only you see that person for what they truly are. The rest of the gnus keep grazing, blissfully unaware. Yet God commands us to love everyone. It may take time to find a way to love our enemies — difficult things always do — but it also demands of us a certain primal common sense. To wit, the following poem:
This is not a litany of sins.
You have taught me things,
a veritable National Geographic
special. Some creatures,
for whom all touch is enemy,
strike — even if the stroke
is light, a caress.
Some people know pain,
and let it go, others
grow it and sow it,
sweat it from their pores
like tropical frogs or
hold it in their craws
like komodos who will
pursue you, slash you with their claws,
consume you or, in a pinch, lick you,
(a flick of the tongue, breathlessly quick),
let the poison in their maws do its work.
Whichever way they come for you, you die.
How do you love a komodo?
From afar, perhaps, and pityingly.
My son is eighteen-years-old, and, as you can imagine, I’m keeping him covered in prayer. At the same time, I’m trying to keep my distance.
After all, he knows how to navigate the world, and he’s got a good head on his shoulders. I have to remember that I’ve raised him to the best of my ability, and now the rest is up to him.
Still, occasionally, if my prayers were read aloud, they would sound frantic. Because sometimes, that’s just how I feel.
He’s going to college. He’s got a steady girlfriend. He’s driving on New Jersey’s busy highways.
The other day, I prayed anxiously. I’d been thinking of all the things I hoped for him in his life, and felt tight. At the end of the prayer, I spoke to myself, just as if in conversation with a friend, trying to understand why I felt so unsettled.
I hope he does well.
I trust God knows what he’s doing.
I believe it all works out in the end.
Breathing in and out a few times slowly, I went into my sunroom and sat in the spot on the couch bathed in soft light rays. Just as my cat might do, basking and being. Just being.
There was a subtle shift in my soul and I exhaled, speaking out loud the words I had just said, only this time, I changed the punctuation slightly. When I put the emphasis back on Providence instead of on the problem, a wave of of peace washed over me.
I hope. He does well.
I trust. God knows what he’s doing.
I believe. It all works out in the end.
“What if you woke up and the only things that remained were the things you gave thanks for yesterday?” This is something I read on Twitter recently, by a site called Amazing Grace.
Staying in a state of grace is putting God back in charge. You know. Where he was all along. It’s okay to let go of things you really can’t control anyway. Just a gentle reminder from someone who’s been there.
Today’s sermon was on eyes of grace. Dangerous listening seems like a good pairing.
This has been one of those weeks. Not a horrible week but a hard week. We are cleaning out my dad’s house. It is also Spring Break. The kids may in general be happy to help but spending 4 days this week sorting, recycling, pitching and boxing up, has not been their ideal Spring Break.
I’m also under contract for one book and just agreed to write another. I’m teaching an online course on writing nonfiction for children and teens. And I’m judging a writing contest. Why did I schedule all of this now? None of it was up to me.
The only one that was in my power was agreeing to read over a new friend’s proposal. I hadn’t gotten to it yet when she called on Thursday. As expected, she told me how much she wants my feedback but also how important she thinks it is to get this to the editor now.
But what she said next really surprised me. She thanked me for always having a good sense of humor and being willing to help someone out. Then she offered to come help at my dad’s one morning.
I was floored. Kind words and a simple offer. That’s all it took.
Definitely something to consider as we try to share God in our lives.
–SueBE
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