Are you listening this Lenten season?
A little reminder for all of us going through tough times. This week we are cleaning out my father’s house. And I’m writing a book. And the kids are on Spring Break. When it rains, it pours. –SueBE
In a dream the other night, I was given some sage advice. I was told, “It’s not solve the problem. It’s resolve the energy. How do you get from down to up. That’s what matters.”
That’s been true in so many situations in my life.
When the Great Gatsby came out a few years ago, I was really looking forward to seeing it. I got my ticket and found a seat in my local theater. About two hours into the movie, I noticed it was sapping my spirit and affecting my energy. It’s not that it was a bad movie, but it got so sad that it was really bringing me down and I felt like I wanted to ditch it. I held off, thinking that others in the audience might look askance at me if I did.
Due to health issues, I was using a crutch. I’m visually impaired. If I were to leave, I’d have to find my way down the steps in the dark, tap-tapping as I go, drawing attention to myself. Should I stay and feel deflated by this bummer of a movie?
As I was pondering this question, a character said, “Sorry you have to be going.”
I thought, hm. Is that for me?
The other character replied, “Yes, sorry, I have to be going.”
Does that confirm it?
“Here, let me show you to the door.”
Okay, God. I get it.
It’s okay to decide that how you feel matters. We spend so much of our time pre-processing our potential actions to run them through the filter of norms and expectations that we don’t even put our own state of mind on the list.
Honor how you feel. If something/someone is bringing you down, catch the bus on out of there. You’ll thank me for this public service the next time you’re in this situation. Just do me a favor – send me your Milk Duds when you leave the movie! 🙂
Several years ago, I helped teach a class on prayer. One of the types of prayer that we learned about was the Irish blessing. These simple prayers call down God’s blessing on even the everyday from the breakfast we eat to the household tasks that we do. Bless this task, bless this house, and bless those who reside within. Amen!
If you’ve been reading the meme’s that I’ve posted throughout the week, you’ve seen that quite a few of them have to do with patience. When I first saw these Lenten quotes about patience I was a bit . . . what? What does patience have to do with Lent?
The more I think about it, the more that I realize that patience is a huge part of Lent.
Lent is all about awaiting the coming dawn. Waiting, to put it simply, is not my strong suit. I want it now. No really. NOW would be better than later.
But that isn’t always the case. Waiting and patience give us time for preparation. Preparation can make the difference between success and a failure. I know this, but I’m still not very good at waiting.
Lent is also a time of turning into the light. It is a time for us to remove what stands between us and God’s light. It is a time of helping us remove what keeps other people from seeing God’s light in us.
Quite often that requires patience. Patience to take care of what ever it is in us that keeps us from being Christ’s hands on earth. Patience to listen to what the other person has to say, because until we know what is in their hears and their minds, we very often have no clue what they need.
Patience. It is a key part of empathy.
Patience. It is most truly something that I need today.
Since we lost our cat Bella two weeks ago, the house seems empty. The irony is, we still have three cats. They are elderly, quiet, less active than they used to be. They are also the last three of a “pride” that once numbered eleven. Going from 11 to three is a dramatic decline. We feel like empty nesters.
Two feelings have arisen in me simultaneously: A desire to adopt more cats plus an equal desire to never adopt again. It is difficult for me to not want to help every stray and needy animal that’s out there. On the other hand, every time we lose one, it hurts dreadfully. I don’t want to hurt again, even though I know I will as three becomes two becomes one becomes zero. Each of our adoptees filled a special space in my heart. They taught me about patience, nurturing, joy and love. As they leave the earth, they take that piece of me with them.
I’ve had to analyze why it is I want to reopen what’s left of my heart to another animal. I think it’s because it’s easier to love animals than to love people. Cats appreciate the smallest luxuries, especially after a life on the streets: a warm bed, plentiful food, a clean box. But people? They’re complicated. Jealous. They come with baggage. It’s harder to please them. It’s harder to show them love. There’s no guarantee that they’ll purr in response to your efforts.
I clearly have a lot of love to give or I wouldn’t have adopted so many animals in my lifetime. What makes it so difficult to transfer that loving from animals to people? Maybe it’s because I understand cats. I can communicate with them. People, not so much, even though we do share a species, language and culture. You’d think it would be the other way round.
And it brings up the following question: Why can’t we accept the simplest acts of love from one another? Why do we look into every gesture, every word, for subtext, motive, hidden agendas? Probably because we’ve been hurt by those things before. If we could give and receive love as easily and freely as animals do, we’d probably be a lot better off. If all it took to restore someone’s good mood was a scratch behind the ears, I’d be doing a lot more scratching. And those good moods would be creating a mountain of good will.
So don’t be put off if some lonely looking woman comes up to you and offers you a sardine or rub under the chin. It’s just me, looking for connections in a simpler, stranger language. Take it as a compliment. Or hand me a kitten. Either way, I’m good.