It's interesting to think back to forty+ days ago, when I began reflecting as my Lenten devotion. It seems as though I just began and simultaneously as though Lent has gone on and on and on. Throughout the Lenten season, my days have been clarified and fortified and centered by the daily Georgetown Lenten reflections and by my own reflections. Obviously there are days where I forgot or felt too stressed to actually post, but nearly every day I read the daily scriptures and took a deep breath in, reveling in God's power to calm me.
I'm still in a very similar place to where I began when Lent commenced: stressed, questioning my success as a teacher, wondering what the future will bring, disappointed at times about my failure to be as consistent in my faith. I feel as though I am searching and searching for something; perhaps it is a sense of home, a sense of belonging, a passion for my work, an abiding love for the daily life I live. I'm not sure what I want, exactly, but as the school year begins to wind down (10 weeks now) and I begin to form summer plans, I "commend my spirit" unto You, Oh, Lord. I want you to guide me and keep me in Your arms and mold me into Your being.
The future still intimidates me, whether it be this spring break which will undoubtedly fly by; the last few weeks until state testing that will probably drag by; my last unit about Shakespeare; finals; summer itself; the daunting second year of teaching; and the scramble to figure out next steps following teaching. Be with me, Lord, every step of the way.
Infuse me with joy and peace as I try to rest and relax this upcoming week. Please help me to find more and more joy in my daily life, even amidst stress and chaos. Center me in Your loving way.
Monday, April 1, 2013
A Little Catching Up to Do.
Holy Saturday 03.30.13
"Though the mountains leave their place
and the hills be shaken,
my love shall never leave you
nor my covenant of peace be shaken,
says the LORD, who has mercy on you."
- IS 54: 5-14
For I will take you away from among the nations,
gather you from all the foreign lands,
and bring you back to your own land.
- EZ 36:16-17A, 18-28
“Why do you seek the living one among the dead?"
- LK 24: 1-12
Saturday is a day rich in scripture and therefore overwhelming in nature. I am struck by the story of Abraham going to kill his beloved son Isaac. Without fail, I am reminded of Kierkegaard's argument that we must make a daily, momentary leap of faith again and again and again; we must never be complacent in our faith because God demands our true faith.
I think of God's promises, made time and again, to love His people and stand by their sides--through it all.
I am awed by the concept of God taking me to my "own land," when sometimes it feels like I have been wandering around for years, seeking that very thing.
I am struck by own inability to recognize and act upon the knowledge that Christ really has risen once more. It sounds trite at this point when in reality it is earth-shattering news that should awe me every time I think of it.
Keep my faith challenged and invigorated, Lord, so that I might follow you more fervently and steadily.
Good Friday 03.29.13
Yet it was our infirmities that he bore,
our sufferings that he endured,
while we thought of him as stricken,
as one smitten by God and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our offenses,
crushed for our sins;
upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole,
by his stripes we were healed.
We had all gone astray like sheep,
each following his own way;
but the LORD laid upon him
the guilt of us all.
- IS 52:13- 53:12
"Strayed Sheep" by William Holman Hunt
Good Friday is quite a misnomer, the priest at my church reflected this morning. Long Friday is another, perhaps more apt name, used around the world. I struggle to adequately realize the relationship between myself and that man, years and years ago, on a cross, suffering unjustly and greatly.
Today my cousins were watching "The Bible" on the History Channel and I had to get up and move away when it showed Christ being flayed, just like I had to avert my gaze when I watched The Crucifixion years ago. I struggle to watch someone suffer and be tortured, but I particularly struggle to watch my God being torn apart by the prejudices and sins of humankind. All of us struggle to comprehend our own relationships to Christ's death, I think. Yet, many of us seem to understand His power when we are in times of need. I often call His name in desperation and forget my part in His death.
His death isn't quite real and I don't know that it ever will be for me. I try and try and try again to understand what He must have felt in that moment, in that interminable day of suffering, in that bottomless pit of people you love actually betraying and destroying you. Even as I struggle to understand my role in His death--as in, come to terms with my own culpability--I know that as Isaiah notes, He guides us back and bore our sins. I picture a mom dashing after a young son running away. I picture a father picking up a sleeping daughter with tear stains on her cheeks from a tantrum. I imagine people fighting and teenagers making mistakes and individuals lost and alone. I picture the darkness in me and acknowledge it, and know that He is there, guiding me back with no judgment, no retribution, no need for anything beyond an embrace and humility.
Open me up to Your rescue, Lord. Let me be receptive to Your glory, even as I am the cause of Your agony.
Holy Thursday 03.28.13
Something about this day has always touched me. It is difficult to understand how humbling it is to have another wash your feet until you actually have someone wash your feet. I always feel humbled and calm, at peace and open at Holy Thursday services. This year, sadly I did not go due to class. Still, this gospel and service made me think about and reflect on why the washing of feet is such a significant act.
How often we take feet for granted. They are one of the hardest-working parts of the body, it seems to me, and I know that all too often mine are dirty, tired, sore, and unnoticed. And I continue to ask myself, what is it that touches me so about this gospel? About this particular loving act of Christ?
I think it is the simplicity of the gesture, for in its simplicity is achieves a stunning level of basic love. God doesn't need grand gestures or something extraordinary to touch us; He uses the simple basis of humanity--who we are, what we are--to remind of us why we are--His beloved children. It is humbling, inherently, to have another touch one's dirty feet, to have another hold and caress and soothe something that is unappreciated and unnoticed. It is surprisingly powerful to have someone acknowledge that the smallest part of who we are is worth another's attention and care. The suggestion, of course, is that all that we are is worth attention, grace, and love.
Could it be true? God gives me hope that it is.
Wednesday 03.27.13
"The Lord GOD has given me
a well-trained tongue,
That I might know how to speak to the weary
a word that will rouse them." - IS 50:4-9
There honestly could not have been a better reading for Wednesday in terms of my day. Behavior issues piled up and it felt as though what I really needed was a way to speak that was bigger and better than myself. Often as a teacher I feel inadequate in terms of having the words to reach and comfort and teach my students. I feel that way now and I reckon that I will always feel that way. Please give me some of Your wisdom, Lord, and use me to help others through You.
"Though the mountains leave their place
and the hills be shaken,
my love shall never leave you
nor my covenant of peace be shaken,
says the LORD, who has mercy on you."
- IS 54: 5-14
For I will take you away from among the nations,
gather you from all the foreign lands,
and bring you back to your own land.
- EZ 36:16-17A, 18-28
“Why do you seek the living one among the dead?"
- LK 24: 1-12
Saturday is a day rich in scripture and therefore overwhelming in nature. I am struck by the story of Abraham going to kill his beloved son Isaac. Without fail, I am reminded of Kierkegaard's argument that we must make a daily, momentary leap of faith again and again and again; we must never be complacent in our faith because God demands our true faith.
I think of God's promises, made time and again, to love His people and stand by their sides--through it all.
I am awed by the concept of God taking me to my "own land," when sometimes it feels like I have been wandering around for years, seeking that very thing.
I am struck by own inability to recognize and act upon the knowledge that Christ really has risen once more. It sounds trite at this point when in reality it is earth-shattering news that should awe me every time I think of it.
Keep my faith challenged and invigorated, Lord, so that I might follow you more fervently and steadily.
Good Friday 03.29.13
Yet it was our infirmities that he bore,
our sufferings that he endured,
while we thought of him as stricken,
as one smitten by God and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our offenses,
crushed for our sins;
upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole,
by his stripes we were healed.
We had all gone astray like sheep,
each following his own way;
but the LORD laid upon him
the guilt of us all.
- IS 52:13- 53:12
"Strayed Sheep" by William Holman Hunt
Good Friday is quite a misnomer, the priest at my church reflected this morning. Long Friday is another, perhaps more apt name, used around the world. I struggle to adequately realize the relationship between myself and that man, years and years ago, on a cross, suffering unjustly and greatly.
Today my cousins were watching "The Bible" on the History Channel and I had to get up and move away when it showed Christ being flayed, just like I had to avert my gaze when I watched The Crucifixion years ago. I struggle to watch someone suffer and be tortured, but I particularly struggle to watch my God being torn apart by the prejudices and sins of humankind. All of us struggle to comprehend our own relationships to Christ's death, I think. Yet, many of us seem to understand His power when we are in times of need. I often call His name in desperation and forget my part in His death.
His death isn't quite real and I don't know that it ever will be for me. I try and try and try again to understand what He must have felt in that moment, in that interminable day of suffering, in that bottomless pit of people you love actually betraying and destroying you. Even as I struggle to understand my role in His death--as in, come to terms with my own culpability--I know that as Isaiah notes, He guides us back and bore our sins. I picture a mom dashing after a young son running away. I picture a father picking up a sleeping daughter with tear stains on her cheeks from a tantrum. I imagine people fighting and teenagers making mistakes and individuals lost and alone. I picture the darkness in me and acknowledge it, and know that He is there, guiding me back with no judgment, no retribution, no need for anything beyond an embrace and humility.
Open me up to Your rescue, Lord. Let me be receptive to Your glory, even as I am the cause of Your agony.
Holy Thursday 03.28.13
Something about this day has always touched me. It is difficult to understand how humbling it is to have another wash your feet until you actually have someone wash your feet. I always feel humbled and calm, at peace and open at Holy Thursday services. This year, sadly I did not go due to class. Still, this gospel and service made me think about and reflect on why the washing of feet is such a significant act.
How often we take feet for granted. They are one of the hardest-working parts of the body, it seems to me, and I know that all too often mine are dirty, tired, sore, and unnoticed. And I continue to ask myself, what is it that touches me so about this gospel? About this particular loving act of Christ?
I think it is the simplicity of the gesture, for in its simplicity is achieves a stunning level of basic love. God doesn't need grand gestures or something extraordinary to touch us; He uses the simple basis of humanity--who we are, what we are--to remind of us why we are--His beloved children. It is humbling, inherently, to have another touch one's dirty feet, to have another hold and caress and soothe something that is unappreciated and unnoticed. It is surprisingly powerful to have someone acknowledge that the smallest part of who we are is worth another's attention and care. The suggestion, of course, is that all that we are is worth attention, grace, and love.
Could it be true? God gives me hope that it is.
Wednesday 03.27.13
"The Lord GOD has given me
a well-trained tongue,
That I might know how to speak to the weary
a word that will rouse them." - IS 50:4-9
There honestly could not have been a better reading for Wednesday in terms of my day. Behavior issues piled up and it felt as though what I really needed was a way to speak that was bigger and better than myself. Often as a teacher I feel inadequate in terms of having the words to reach and comfort and teach my students. I feel that way now and I reckon that I will always feel that way. Please give me some of Your wisdom, Lord, and use me to help others through You.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Monday, 03.25.13
Do everything calmly and peacefully. Do as much as you can as well as you can. Strive to see God in all things without exception, and consent to His will joyously. Do everything for God, uniting yourself to him in word and deed. Walk very simply with the Cross of the Lord and be at peace with yourself.
- St. Francis de Sales
"The Lord is my light and my salvation.
Though an army encamp against me,
my heart will not fear;
Though war be waged upon me,
even then will I trust."
- PS 27:1, 2, 3, 13-14
"Not where I breathe, but where I love, I live."
- Robert Southwell, SJ
I have been thinking about what it means to be unflappable lately. How could I actually become this calm fortress that will not lash back or cower or sink low or lose sight of my goals? Yes, I will slip; we all will. But how can I become a better friend, teacher, daughter, and twenty-something adult? I want to feel at peace and be less like a reed in the wind, bending to the moods of my students and the challenges and pitfalls of my days. I feel as though I feel strongest when God is with me and when I specifically hand over my needs to him. Allow me to be pliant to You, Lord, so that You can shape me into someone strong to help others.
- St. Francis de Sales
"The Lord is my light and my salvation.
Though an army encamp against me,
my heart will not fear;
Though war be waged upon me,
even then will I trust."
- PS 27:1, 2, 3, 13-14
"Not where I breathe, but where I love, I live."
- Robert Southwell, SJ
I have been thinking about what it means to be unflappable lately. How could I actually become this calm fortress that will not lash back or cower or sink low or lose sight of my goals? Yes, I will slip; we all will. But how can I become a better friend, teacher, daughter, and twenty-something adult? I want to feel at peace and be less like a reed in the wind, bending to the moods of my students and the challenges and pitfalls of my days. I feel as though I feel strongest when God is with me and when I specifically hand over my needs to him. Allow me to be pliant to You, Lord, so that You can shape me into someone strong to help others.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Tuesday, 03.26.13
I feel sad today as I consider how I have not written an entry for almost a week--and of course, it is the last week of Lent. Therefore I feel a particularly strong connection to the disciples in today's gospel, with both Peter and Judas. I let myself down, time and again, as I make mistakes and don't go to the gym tonight or send that package on time this weekend or complete my whole-week lesson outline before the week commences. I didn't do enough. I let myself down. I may even have let someone else down. But ultimately, God is at the bottom, the top, the sides, the core of this sense of inadequacy. He says You are enough and You always will be for me, for "The LORD called me from birth, from my mother’s womb he gave me my name" (IS 49: 1-6). He has been and He always will be with me, even at low points like the middle of the week of school right before Spring Break.
I'm tired, my students are tired, and we're all ready for break. Renew us, Lord, and help all of Your children to feel Your redeeming love. We're all like Judas, the ultimate symbol of humiliation and weakness, and thus of the full potential of Your forgiveness. If Judas, the person who betrayed his beloved messiah, could fall so low, and still, still Christ's forgiveness could extend to the person who killed Him, then we are all saved. For a long time, I looked down with contempt at Judas, and it was only last year in a phenomenal class at Georgetown that I finally realized that I am Judas. When it feels like I betray myself and my God, even if it is not as extreme as Judas's actions, I am not alone and I am loved.
Sustain me, ever more, O, Lord, my God.
I'm tired, my students are tired, and we're all ready for break. Renew us, Lord, and help all of Your children to feel Your redeeming love. We're all like Judas, the ultimate symbol of humiliation and weakness, and thus of the full potential of Your forgiveness. If Judas, the person who betrayed his beloved messiah, could fall so low, and still, still Christ's forgiveness could extend to the person who killed Him, then we are all saved. For a long time, I looked down with contempt at Judas, and it was only last year in a phenomenal class at Georgetown that I finally realized that I am Judas. When it feels like I betray myself and my God, even if it is not as extreme as Judas's actions, I am not alone and I am loved.
Sustain me, ever more, O, Lord, my God.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Wednesday, 03.20.13
Jesus said to those Jews who believed in him,
“If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples,
and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
- JN 8:31-42
Interestingly enough, I immediately thought of Mumford and Sons when I read today's gospel. I feel called to this idea of being liberated by truth, but simultaneously the scholar in me questions if there is such a thing as truth in a world steeped in bias and subjectivity. I love this idea that God alone knows the truth because He is the only one outside of our reality and infused in every part of our reality.
Perhaps that is a philosophic start, but the second thing that struck me about this verse is that Jesus is talking to the Jews who already believe in Him. There seems to be a call not only to read "[his] word" but to know "[his] word." I am envisioning a resolute scholar poring over scripture again and again and again, relentlessly seeking the "truth." Then I visualize Mother Teresa living the scripture to the extent that she finds the truth of Christ in the eyes and words and actions of people. Isn't that true liberation through the Holy Spirit? Perhaps God will bless me with even glimmers of the truth in the midst of struggles to transcend my weaknesses and prejudices and selfishness.
Lord, help me to break through my stubbornness to be open to Your truth and to have the wisdom to act on Your truth.
“If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples,
and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
- JN 8:31-42
Interestingly enough, I immediately thought of Mumford and Sons when I read today's gospel. I feel called to this idea of being liberated by truth, but simultaneously the scholar in me questions if there is such a thing as truth in a world steeped in bias and subjectivity. I love this idea that God alone knows the truth because He is the only one outside of our reality and infused in every part of our reality.
Perhaps that is a philosophic start, but the second thing that struck me about this verse is that Jesus is talking to the Jews who already believe in Him. There seems to be a call not only to read "[his] word" but to know "[his] word." I am envisioning a resolute scholar poring over scripture again and again and again, relentlessly seeking the "truth." Then I visualize Mother Teresa living the scripture to the extent that she finds the truth of Christ in the eyes and words and actions of people. Isn't that true liberation through the Holy Spirit? Perhaps God will bless me with even glimmers of the truth in the midst of struggles to transcend my weaknesses and prejudices and selfishness.
Lord, help me to break through my stubbornness to be open to Your truth and to have the wisdom to act on Your truth.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Tuesday, 03.19.13
The most amazing thing happened today: I began to feel hopeful about next year. I wasn't super confident about today's lesson, but all of a sudden, I could think about ten different ways that my lesson was much stronger than it would have been at the beginning of the year. I saw progress in my planning and in my teaching; it was magically reflected in my students being very on-track today. For the first time in... a long time, perhaps even ever, I did not need to have one-on-one behavior conversations because overall everyone was for the most part meeting expectations in behavior and participation. I saw more hands and heard more voices, and as a result, I felt inspired.
Does this mean I suddenly LOVE teaching? that I am excited about my commitment to teach next year? No, this is still a very difficult career that I have not mastered. I just felt, somehow, that next year will be better than my darker months this year. I feel more comfortable in my teacher skin, and I think (hope) that will show in my classes.
In today's gospel, Joseph nobly and humbly accepts the challenge that God provides him with, and in the Georgetown Lenten reflection, a brilliant point is made that we, like Joseph, will fade into anonymity. Joseph briefly shines and then fades from the gospels, to the extent that we question how he spent the rest of his life. I reflected today that in many ways, I will probably be a brief phase in my students' lives so that years from now they might not even be able to describe me beyond saying, "Ya, she was my...English teacher I think, sometime in high school." It's amazing to think that as a teacher, my goal is always to increase my students' abilities and leadership and independence, so that they can think and work independently of the teacher. I hope that I can be humble like Joseph and find strength through God to do my very best for those I serve.
I'll conclude with the wonderful prayer from today's Georgetown Lenten reflection:
Loving and gracious God, source of gifts untold, thank You for all Your blessings. By the example of St. Joseph, may we learn the joys of serving You without expectation of praise or notice, laboring in shadows for righteousness. We long for this with humble hearts, and in Your name we pray, Amen.
Does this mean I suddenly LOVE teaching? that I am excited about my commitment to teach next year? No, this is still a very difficult career that I have not mastered. I just felt, somehow, that next year will be better than my darker months this year. I feel more comfortable in my teacher skin, and I think (hope) that will show in my classes.
In today's gospel, Joseph nobly and humbly accepts the challenge that God provides him with, and in the Georgetown Lenten reflection, a brilliant point is made that we, like Joseph, will fade into anonymity. Joseph briefly shines and then fades from the gospels, to the extent that we question how he spent the rest of his life. I reflected today that in many ways, I will probably be a brief phase in my students' lives so that years from now they might not even be able to describe me beyond saying, "Ya, she was my...English teacher I think, sometime in high school." It's amazing to think that as a teacher, my goal is always to increase my students' abilities and leadership and independence, so that they can think and work independently of the teacher. I hope that I can be humble like Joseph and find strength through God to do my very best for those I serve.
I'll conclude with the wonderful prayer from today's Georgetown Lenten reflection:
Loving and gracious God, source of gifts untold, thank You for all Your blessings. By the example of St. Joseph, may we learn the joys of serving You without expectation of praise or notice, laboring in shadows for righteousness. We long for this with humble hearts, and in Your name we pray, Amen.
Saturday-Monday, 03.17-9.13
The readings from Saturday, Sunday, and Monday are wonderfully rich with fruitful intersections. Jesus repeatedly defends himself against doubters; Susanna and the adulterous woman prompt us to question the wonderful yields of a trusting relationship with God; and the books of Jeremiah and Philippians challenge the reader to reflect in order to better understand our own choices and destiny.
I am struck by a common strength of spirit in these passages, for despite numerous obstacles, the followers of Christ and Christ himself persevere, only to find that in the process, the followers have been transformed into more spiritual and peaceful people. I find comfort in the idea that while the Lord is a "searcher of mind and heart" (JER 11:18-20), yet Christ also says that while "you judge by appearances...I do not judge anyone" (JN 8:12-20). How wonderful would it be to feel completely open and vulnerable to those we love and know that despite seeing the very, very worst and most shameful parts of ourselves, we are loved? It makes me think of one of my favorite Yeats quotes: "the tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul." While the sexual reference may initially distract us in a spiritual conversation, at the heart of this quote and these verses is a sense of yearning to be understood and fully known, then completely and utterly accepted. In fact, God uses the sexuality of Susanna and the adulterous woman to transform sexual sin and impurity--human weakness and corruption--into a gateway for a stronger relationship with Him; nothing can stand in God's way as He continues to build relationships with His children.
Rev. Stephen Spahn, S.J. writes in the Georgetown Lenten reflection for Sunday that the adulterous woman's decision to remain with Jesus after her persecutors have left is a remarkable act. She must have felt compelled and drawn towards Christ in some way--otherwise she most assuredly would have fled the scene of her near-death experience. I am awed by the strength of this woman and of Susanna to be publicly humiliated and judged, then held up and strengthened and cleansed by peace that comes only from God.
Please strengthen my spirit, Lord, and allow me to think and care less about the judgment of others. Let me work to make You, before all others, proud.
Amen.
I am struck by a common strength of spirit in these passages, for despite numerous obstacles, the followers of Christ and Christ himself persevere, only to find that in the process, the followers have been transformed into more spiritual and peaceful people. I find comfort in the idea that while the Lord is a "searcher of mind and heart" (JER 11:18-20), yet Christ also says that while "you judge by appearances...I do not judge anyone" (JN 8:12-20). How wonderful would it be to feel completely open and vulnerable to those we love and know that despite seeing the very, very worst and most shameful parts of ourselves, we are loved? It makes me think of one of my favorite Yeats quotes: "the tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul." While the sexual reference may initially distract us in a spiritual conversation, at the heart of this quote and these verses is a sense of yearning to be understood and fully known, then completely and utterly accepted. In fact, God uses the sexuality of Susanna and the adulterous woman to transform sexual sin and impurity--human weakness and corruption--into a gateway for a stronger relationship with Him; nothing can stand in God's way as He continues to build relationships with His children.
Rev. Stephen Spahn, S.J. writes in the Georgetown Lenten reflection for Sunday that the adulterous woman's decision to remain with Jesus after her persecutors have left is a remarkable act. She must have felt compelled and drawn towards Christ in some way--otherwise she most assuredly would have fled the scene of her near-death experience. I am awed by the strength of this woman and of Susanna to be publicly humiliated and judged, then held up and strengthened and cleansed by peace that comes only from God.
Please strengthen my spirit, Lord, and allow me to think and care less about the judgment of others. Let me work to make You, before all others, proud.
Amen.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Thursday, Friday 03.14-15.13
Friday 03.15.13
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted."
- Ps. 34:9a
I find this psalm simple and fulfilling. Too often it takes a really low moment to pull me out of myself enough to seek God and His mercy, wisdom, and grace. While I sometimes hesitate to whine, cry, or lean on one person too much (will she still care about me? am I getting on his nerves? will she think I am weak?), it is mind boggling to truly understand that God will bear all of me. All of my worries, sins, fears, dreams, and craziness. Any part of me that is broken, He can and will see without flinching or hesitating or giving up on me.
Grant me peace and strengthen the bonds that tie us together, Lord.
Thursday 03.14.13
The gospel from Thursday is very interesting in the sense that Jesus highlights the relationship between faith and holy scripture. Indeed, He goes so far as to question if people are examining the text and placing their faith in it without consulting and trusting in God's wisdom. In today's world, when people regularly debate interpretations of what is really "moral" based on scripture, this gospel seems particularly pertinent. I can't help but question if enough people, including myself, go so far as to pray for insights and wisdom when reflecting on scripture. As a living and breathing text, the bible is the bedrock of many people's faith, and yet, we, weak humans that we are, have a tendency to twist the meanings to fit our desires. While I continue my Lenten journey, Lord, let me glean wisdom from the bible through You and with You.
"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted."
- Ps. 34:9a
I find this psalm simple and fulfilling. Too often it takes a really low moment to pull me out of myself enough to seek God and His mercy, wisdom, and grace. While I sometimes hesitate to whine, cry, or lean on one person too much (will she still care about me? am I getting on his nerves? will she think I am weak?), it is mind boggling to truly understand that God will bear all of me. All of my worries, sins, fears, dreams, and craziness. Any part of me that is broken, He can and will see without flinching or hesitating or giving up on me.
Grant me peace and strengthen the bonds that tie us together, Lord.
Thursday 03.14.13
The gospel from Thursday is very interesting in the sense that Jesus highlights the relationship between faith and holy scripture. Indeed, He goes so far as to question if people are examining the text and placing their faith in it without consulting and trusting in God's wisdom. In today's world, when people regularly debate interpretations of what is really "moral" based on scripture, this gospel seems particularly pertinent. I can't help but question if enough people, including myself, go so far as to pray for insights and wisdom when reflecting on scripture. As a living and breathing text, the bible is the bedrock of many people's faith, and yet, we, weak humans that we are, have a tendency to twist the meanings to fit our desires. While I continue my Lenten journey, Lord, let me glean wisdom from the bible through You and with You.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Wednesday, 03.13.13
“I cannot do anything on my own;
I judge as I hear, and my judgment is just,
because I do not seek my own will
but the will of the one who sent me.”
- JN 5:17-30
Today's gospel is a beautiful lesson in humility. Oddly enough, it fits really well with one of my favorite tv shows I caught up with today- Once Upon a Time. In the show, the characters struggle simultaneously with the sins of their parents and with their own pride, which, of course, is something we all struggle with. The images from today's readings and the show flash through my mind: bowing down before others, freeing prisoners, journeying afar, being shown mercy, giving into another's will, realizing that grace is a choice, finding the liberation of humility. It's all there, concise and true, unyielding in its wisdom.
Humility has been my lifelong struggle and so it continues to be. I want to praise God with all that I am and yet I too often give into what I want to do. I pray, Lord, that You will make me Your own and make my will submissive to Yours; only then will I be free. Teach me the lesson that Christ so beautifully learned and taught, that goodness stems from You and Your people are only powerful when they act under Your will.
I judge as I hear, and my judgment is just,
because I do not seek my own will
but the will of the one who sent me.”
- JN 5:17-30
Today's gospel is a beautiful lesson in humility. Oddly enough, it fits really well with one of my favorite tv shows I caught up with today- Once Upon a Time. In the show, the characters struggle simultaneously with the sins of their parents and with their own pride, which, of course, is something we all struggle with. The images from today's readings and the show flash through my mind: bowing down before others, freeing prisoners, journeying afar, being shown mercy, giving into another's will, realizing that grace is a choice, finding the liberation of humility. It's all there, concise and true, unyielding in its wisdom.
Humility has been my lifelong struggle and so it continues to be. I want to praise God with all that I am and yet I too often give into what I want to do. I pray, Lord, that You will make me Your own and make my will submissive to Yours; only then will I be free. Teach me the lesson that Christ so beautifully learned and taught, that goodness stems from You and Your people are only powerful when they act under Your will.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Tuesday 03.12.13
Ezekiel's story today at first bored me a little bit; it was long and contained what seemed be superfluous details. As I continued to read, however, I could visualize the river that wound across the land, the hope and life that sprung forth in its midst. I associate life with God, and the visual is a powerful one for me. I find myself picturing my beloved Potomac, with its rich banks and sights that I love on either side. Rivers are powerful for they transport people and goods, they break through the land, they nourish the land, and they provide a foundation as people navigate the land. In short, they connect and rejuvenate people.
Sometimes when I feel most alone, I am comforted because God brings someone into my life or back into my life. I do not doubt that He has blessed me with people to love and care for that have in turn done the same for me. Even when I feel cut off and alone, Lord, keep my eyes on Your grace and the power of Your love, that brings new life and love to all it touches.
Sometimes when I feel most alone, I am comforted because God brings someone into my life or back into my life. I do not doubt that He has blessed me with people to love and care for that have in turn done the same for me. Even when I feel cut off and alone, Lord, keep my eyes on Your grace and the power of Your love, that brings new life and love to all it touches.
Sunday 03.10.13 & Monday 03.11.13
So we are ambassadors for Christ,
as if God were appealing through us.
- 2 Cor 5:17-21
Sunday and Monday's readings are quite rich and therefore a bit difficult to reflect on. They made me question if I could ever truly be an "ambassador" of Christ; what it would be like to welcome fellow sinners with God's grace; what eternal life and joy would feel like; and how I would feel to have a tangible sign that God is real.
At the heart of all the readings (as in the whole bible), I think there is a play between hope and hopelessness, a sense of God saving us and of us losing sight of His grace. The reflection I read for Monday mentions the bleakness of March, with a question of will summer ever arrive? I was thinking about the sharp contrast in these readings from Sunday and Monday in terms of feeling the joy that only comes from God--pure and eternal--and feeling the sharp desolate nature of being cut off from our Father. Throughout this year, I've romanticized certain periods of my life and victimized myself in the present, all as an attempt to cope. When I think about the joy that awaits me this summer with a much-needed break, I find it difficult to remain energized and joyful now, in the present. When I think about seeing loved ones suffer, seeing sin recur in my actions, and seeing no success where I have planted with hard work, I almost succumb to this sense of hopelessness. I feel so grateful to know that God, however, will not give into that hopelessness. Even when all my actions could and perhaps even should cause Him to lose hope in me, He prevails and continues to make me a better person.
Plant a sense of love, hope, and peace in me, Lord, so that I may share it, as an ambassador, with others.
as if God were appealing through us.
- 2 Cor 5:17-21
Sunday and Monday's readings are quite rich and therefore a bit difficult to reflect on. They made me question if I could ever truly be an "ambassador" of Christ; what it would be like to welcome fellow sinners with God's grace; what eternal life and joy would feel like; and how I would feel to have a tangible sign that God is real.
At the heart of all the readings (as in the whole bible), I think there is a play between hope and hopelessness, a sense of God saving us and of us losing sight of His grace. The reflection I read for Monday mentions the bleakness of March, with a question of will summer ever arrive? I was thinking about the sharp contrast in these readings from Sunday and Monday in terms of feeling the joy that only comes from God--pure and eternal--and feeling the sharp desolate nature of being cut off from our Father. Throughout this year, I've romanticized certain periods of my life and victimized myself in the present, all as an attempt to cope. When I think about the joy that awaits me this summer with a much-needed break, I find it difficult to remain energized and joyful now, in the present. When I think about seeing loved ones suffer, seeing sin recur in my actions, and seeing no success where I have planted with hard work, I almost succumb to this sense of hopelessness. I feel so grateful to know that God, however, will not give into that hopelessness. Even when all my actions could and perhaps even should cause Him to lose hope in me, He prevails and continues to make me a better person.
Plant a sense of love, hope, and peace in me, Lord, so that I may share it, as an ambassador, with others.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Saturday 03.09.13
He will come to us like the rain.
- Hos. 6:1-6
My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit
- Ps. 51:3-4, 18-19, 20-21AB
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,
and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.
- Lk. 18:9-14
Humility is hard for me to master. I am too self-critical while also being too self-righteous. I think that my pride does sneak in, without me noticing, as I try to process information, confront my conscience, and examine the complexity of my motivations and my weaknesses. The gospel, therefore, is highly relevant to me and my life. It also achieves a paradox of simplicity in its message: God makes loving Him sound easy--perhaps too easy. We are told that we do not need to accomplish great things nor give things we are not capable of; we merely need to lower our guards and our self-centric mentalities to focus on Him and let Him into our hearts. God, strengthen the part of me that follows You and engender humility in my actions.
- Hos. 6:1-6
My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit
- Ps. 51:3-4, 18-19, 20-21AB
For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,
and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.
- Lk. 18:9-14
Humility is hard for me to master. I am too self-critical while also being too self-righteous. I think that my pride does sneak in, without me noticing, as I try to process information, confront my conscience, and examine the complexity of my motivations and my weaknesses. The gospel, therefore, is highly relevant to me and my life. It also achieves a paradox of simplicity in its message: God makes loving Him sound easy--perhaps too easy. We are told that we do not need to accomplish great things nor give things we are not capable of; we merely need to lower our guards and our self-centric mentalities to focus on Him and let Him into our hearts. God, strengthen the part of me that follows You and engender humility in my actions.
Thursday and Friday 03.07-08.13
Every kingdom divided against itself will be laid waste
and house will fall against house.
- Luke 11:14-23
Lord, You are my inspiration and the example by which I desire to lead my life. Please give me the strength and courage to actively and fearlessly love those around me in a way that Your light would shine through me. Help me to have a spirit of service and dedication to Your work here in earth. Amen
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection
Fall in love with God and embrace, with gratitude, everything that you have been given. Practice loving him by engaging in quiet contemplation and prayer. Stay in love with God by serving him absolutely.
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection (Elizabeth Arsenault)
I feel touched by the Thursday and Friday readings in the sense that they seem to communicate powerfully with one another--and me. I think the perhaps initially harsh seeming message of God for His people to actually follow Him can inspire hope. Does not God know that we need a loud, commanding voice at times to shake us, prompt us, move us? The readings gracefully and mightily point out our laziness and stubbornness as we tune out a clear message to love. Love, love, love--words that now seem trite, cliche, and empty in their commonness. God's promise of absolute, unwavering, unmatched love is hard to hear, see, and understand. We want proof, we want examples, we want sure knowledge, we want first-hand experience of that which we believe in. Yet, God's love cannot be exactly recreated in any human relationship and our imaginations struggle to process and believe in His kind of love.
Let me seek You out, Lord, in the ways I try to love others and in those glimpses of Your love that others have shown to me. Bring me and mine peace this week.
and house will fall against house.
- Luke 11:14-23
Lord, You are my inspiration and the example by which I desire to lead my life. Please give me the strength and courage to actively and fearlessly love those around me in a way that Your light would shine through me. Help me to have a spirit of service and dedication to Your work here in earth. Amen
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection
Fall in love with God and embrace, with gratitude, everything that you have been given. Practice loving him by engaging in quiet contemplation and prayer. Stay in love with God by serving him absolutely.
- Georgetown Lenten Reflection (Elizabeth Arsenault)
I feel touched by the Thursday and Friday readings in the sense that they seem to communicate powerfully with one another--and me. I think the perhaps initially harsh seeming message of God for His people to actually follow Him can inspire hope. Does not God know that we need a loud, commanding voice at times to shake us, prompt us, move us? The readings gracefully and mightily point out our laziness and stubbornness as we tune out a clear message to love. Love, love, love--words that now seem trite, cliche, and empty in their commonness. God's promise of absolute, unwavering, unmatched love is hard to hear, see, and understand. We want proof, we want examples, we want sure knowledge, we want first-hand experience of that which we believe in. Yet, God's love cannot be exactly recreated in any human relationship and our imaginations struggle to process and believe in His kind of love.
Let me seek You out, Lord, in the ways I try to love others and in those glimpses of Your love that others have shown to me. Bring me and mine peace this week.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Wednesday, 03.06.13
“However, take care and be earnestly on your guard
not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen,
nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live,
but teach them to your children and to your children’s children.”
DT 4:5-9
Today's readings made me consider the shifting social mores of our time; by the time my "children" and my "children's children" arrive, our world will be a radically different place than the Victorian era I so love to study, my grandmother's world, my mother's world, and the world of my childhood.
Statistics abound that prove we are shifting towards a ME-centred society and that social ills are, if anything, rising. As the institution of marriage degenerates into common divorce and torn apart families, as petty crimes becomes norms, as young people have the choice to enter casual flings, take casual drugs, and casually move far from home, we as a society are forced to re-centre ourselves in shifting times and re-prioritize what matters most to us. We must examine God's laws, as Jesus did, and decide what our response to pressing topical issues and personal tragedies will be; we must decide what it means to interpret a living, breathing text in the face of more and more adversity. In other words, I must decide what it means to be Christian when I am pulled in a variety of directions, and at the heart of that need, I must follow my conscience and above all else, my God.
Guide my heart in tumultuous times and dampen my desire to do as I wish; instead, magnetize my core values to follow Your true North, towards a godly life and a humble path. Strengthen my faith and allow me to turn inwards in the face of new challenges.
not to forget the things which your own eyes have seen,
nor let them slip from your memory as long as you live,
but teach them to your children and to your children’s children.”
DT 4:5-9
Today's readings made me consider the shifting social mores of our time; by the time my "children" and my "children's children" arrive, our world will be a radically different place than the Victorian era I so love to study, my grandmother's world, my mother's world, and the world of my childhood.
Statistics abound that prove we are shifting towards a ME-centred society and that social ills are, if anything, rising. As the institution of marriage degenerates into common divorce and torn apart families, as petty crimes becomes norms, as young people have the choice to enter casual flings, take casual drugs, and casually move far from home, we as a society are forced to re-centre ourselves in shifting times and re-prioritize what matters most to us. We must examine God's laws, as Jesus did, and decide what our response to pressing topical issues and personal tragedies will be; we must decide what it means to interpret a living, breathing text in the face of more and more adversity. In other words, I must decide what it means to be Christian when I am pulled in a variety of directions, and at the heart of that need, I must follow my conscience and above all else, my God.
Guide my heart in tumultuous times and dampen my desire to do as I wish; instead, magnetize my core values to follow Your true North, towards a godly life and a humble path. Strengthen my faith and allow me to turn inwards in the face of new challenges.
Tuesday, 03.05.13
I must admit that today's gospel disturbs me with its ominous ending. God transcends our economic understandings of equality, fairness, and justice; then He exacts justice on someone who forsook his mercy to hurt another. It's always hard for me to meld God's finality in the gospel in terms of offering numerous chances and unfathomable forgiveness before finally, inevitably, casting judgment. His grace is never-ending--until, it seems, the parable must end with the clear consequence depicted.
Perhaps I am over-thinking this. Clearly, we have grown up with an understanding that there is a heaven and a hell, a balance between opportunities to convert and change and then the end of life when a decision must be reached--will we follow God and His ways or not? Yet some part of me sees God in such a positive, awe-inspiring light that it is difficult to imagine and accept His holy justice and firm hand. As a teacher, never have I so clearly understood the need for clearly communicated consequences, and yet I find peace in knowing that nothing I do will or could ever push God away from me. He will not leave nor shall he give up on me, us, anyone--until one of us dies without repenting. Do you see what I mean? It's difficult to synthesize even whilst the justice is clear.
All I know is that God has forged a way that enables Him to be with us in flesh and temptation, weakness and degradation, so always, Lord, shape me so that I may ask:
with contrite heart and humble spirit
let us be received
DN 3:25, 34-43
Perhaps I am over-thinking this. Clearly, we have grown up with an understanding that there is a heaven and a hell, a balance between opportunities to convert and change and then the end of life when a decision must be reached--will we follow God and His ways or not? Yet some part of me sees God in such a positive, awe-inspiring light that it is difficult to imagine and accept His holy justice and firm hand. As a teacher, never have I so clearly understood the need for clearly communicated consequences, and yet I find peace in knowing that nothing I do will or could ever push God away from me. He will not leave nor shall he give up on me, us, anyone--until one of us dies without repenting. Do you see what I mean? It's difficult to synthesize even whilst the justice is clear.
All I know is that God has forged a way that enables Him to be with us in flesh and temptation, weakness and degradation, so always, Lord, shape me so that I may ask:
with contrite heart and humble spirit
let us be received
DN 3:25, 34-43
Monday, March 4, 2013
Monday, 03.04.13
Send forth your light and your fidelity;
they shall lead me on
And bring me to your holy mountain,
to your dwelling-place.
- Ps. 42-43
Though I chose to quote today's psalm, which I found to be peaceful and soothing, I found the gospel also quite moving. Like Elisha and Jesus, I at times feel quite misunderstood, as though my motives are not seen by others, my actions misinterpreted, my words twisted. These things happen unintentionally most of the time (and the worst, intentionally at others), but at the heart of it is a disability to get beyond one's own point of view. I love literature precisely because it forces me to think about others and their motivations, points of view, difficulties, and ways of thinking. Just as others seem to misunderstand me, so I misunderstand them. Let me try to remove my self-interest, biases, and preconceptions so that I may form loving, supporting relationships with others. Please also help me to see Your hand in my life with grace and goodwill, rather than suspicion and resentment when things are not going my way. Let me know that You are here and on my side.
they shall lead me on
And bring me to your holy mountain,
to your dwelling-place.
- Ps. 42-43
Though I chose to quote today's psalm, which I found to be peaceful and soothing, I found the gospel also quite moving. Like Elisha and Jesus, I at times feel quite misunderstood, as though my motives are not seen by others, my actions misinterpreted, my words twisted. These things happen unintentionally most of the time (and the worst, intentionally at others), but at the heart of it is a disability to get beyond one's own point of view. I love literature precisely because it forces me to think about others and their motivations, points of view, difficulties, and ways of thinking. Just as others seem to misunderstand me, so I misunderstand them. Let me try to remove my self-interest, biases, and preconceptions so that I may form loving, supporting relationships with others. Please also help me to see Your hand in my life with grace and goodwill, rather than suspicion and resentment when things are not going my way. Let me know that You are here and on my side.
Friday, Saturday, Sunday
Sunday, 03.03.13
I had a lovely time discussing today's gospel with my faith sharing group. We found comfort and even solace in the idea that God will not give up on us, even when logic shows that we deserve to be given up on. If I do not do a good enough job at work, if I fail someone I care about, if I continue to repeat my sins, if I refuse to listen to God because I do not want to hear what He has to say--none of this would be enough for Him to give up on me.
Sometimes I think the saddest part of human relationships is their fragility, their very nature which suggests there are finite limits to forgiveness, mercy, and love. As a society we juxtapose romantic comedies with shows about scandal and sin in families: what is the reality of a "good" family and how can we find that for ourselves? How can I try to live my life after God's mercy while maintaining boundaries for healthy relationships? How can we lose sight of ourselves long enough to see why people act the way they do rather than shutting down at their mistakes?
Foster Your grace and mercy in me, Lord. Though I often feel inadequate, rejuvenate me in the knowledge that I am always enough for You.
_________________________________________________
Saturday, 03.02.13
The parable of the prodigal son never fails to make me uncomfortable. Not, of course, because it is an inadequate or terrible story, but because it is too true, too close, too intrusive. I used to envision myself as the faithful brother, who becomes jealous at his brother's return; it was difficult for me to relate to the brother who did not think ahead and make clear plans but rather ran about and acted selfishly. It took me a long, long time--until two years or so ago--to realize that I am the returning brother.
Does not that suggest my own foolish pride? Does that not confirm the very need for the story? I can look at the prodigal son and see a foolish boy, and yet, looking at my own actions, I lack the same clear vision. The Georgetown Lenten reflection included the following words of Pope Benedict in conjunction with the gospel: “Heaven is always more than we can merit, just as being loved is never something merited, but always a gift.” The story of the prodigal son pushes my thinking, every time I read it; even as I skim over the words, asking, "This story- again?", I simultaneously feel it take hold of me. God's redemption, in the face of solid proof, hit-you-over-the-head proof, that the son, we, do not deserve that redemption.
I hope to be the son who humbly asks for forgiveness after making many, many mistakes. Curb my self-righteousness, open my heart, and allow me to come home to You daily, Lord.
_________________________________________________
Friday, 03.01.13
The sacrifices of Joseph and of the vineyard owner's son make me feel a bit remote and sad--do I doubt that humankind is capable of such depravity? No. That I am capable of such depravity? No. Sometimes I feel isolated in the sense that the human condition requires that we struggle to not think of merely ourselves. Me, me, me, me, me. That word pervades my thoughts, my focus, my way of thinking.
The Georgetown Lenten reflection mentions the need of Joseph to follow his path and overcome adversity so that he may stay focused on God's purpose for him. I ask that God renew my purpose, whatever it may be, and to tear my attention away from myself. Let me put You and others first, before my own comforts and selfish thoughts. Harvest Your generosity of spirit in me.
I had a lovely time discussing today's gospel with my faith sharing group. We found comfort and even solace in the idea that God will not give up on us, even when logic shows that we deserve to be given up on. If I do not do a good enough job at work, if I fail someone I care about, if I continue to repeat my sins, if I refuse to listen to God because I do not want to hear what He has to say--none of this would be enough for Him to give up on me.
Sometimes I think the saddest part of human relationships is their fragility, their very nature which suggests there are finite limits to forgiveness, mercy, and love. As a society we juxtapose romantic comedies with shows about scandal and sin in families: what is the reality of a "good" family and how can we find that for ourselves? How can I try to live my life after God's mercy while maintaining boundaries for healthy relationships? How can we lose sight of ourselves long enough to see why people act the way they do rather than shutting down at their mistakes?
Foster Your grace and mercy in me, Lord. Though I often feel inadequate, rejuvenate me in the knowledge that I am always enough for You.
_________________________________________________
Saturday, 03.02.13
The parable of the prodigal son never fails to make me uncomfortable. Not, of course, because it is an inadequate or terrible story, but because it is too true, too close, too intrusive. I used to envision myself as the faithful brother, who becomes jealous at his brother's return; it was difficult for me to relate to the brother who did not think ahead and make clear plans but rather ran about and acted selfishly. It took me a long, long time--until two years or so ago--to realize that I am the returning brother.
Does not that suggest my own foolish pride? Does that not confirm the very need for the story? I can look at the prodigal son and see a foolish boy, and yet, looking at my own actions, I lack the same clear vision. The Georgetown Lenten reflection included the following words of Pope Benedict in conjunction with the gospel: “Heaven is always more than we can merit, just as being loved is never something merited, but always a gift.” The story of the prodigal son pushes my thinking, every time I read it; even as I skim over the words, asking, "This story- again?", I simultaneously feel it take hold of me. God's redemption, in the face of solid proof, hit-you-over-the-head proof, that the son, we, do not deserve that redemption.
I hope to be the son who humbly asks for forgiveness after making many, many mistakes. Curb my self-righteousness, open my heart, and allow me to come home to You daily, Lord.
_________________________________________________
Friday, 03.01.13
The sacrifices of Joseph and of the vineyard owner's son make me feel a bit remote and sad--do I doubt that humankind is capable of such depravity? No. That I am capable of such depravity? No. Sometimes I feel isolated in the sense that the human condition requires that we struggle to not think of merely ourselves. Me, me, me, me, me. That word pervades my thoughts, my focus, my way of thinking.
The Georgetown Lenten reflection mentions the need of Joseph to follow his path and overcome adversity so that he may stay focused on God's purpose for him. I ask that God renew my purpose, whatever it may be, and to tear my attention away from myself. Let me put You and others first, before my own comforts and selfish thoughts. Harvest Your generosity of spirit in me.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Thursday, 02.28.13
Cursed is the man who trusts in human beings,
who seeks his strength in flesh,
whose heart turns away from the LORD.
- Jer. 17:5-10
Reflecting on today's reading, I'm not sure if I am taking this quote too far from its original meaning. My first thought immediately went to my emotional state this year and struggling to work so much but not be too emotionally invested in my work. When I reflect on seeking and trusting "human beings" and "flesh" rather than the Lord, it makes me turn inwards to look at my own battle to learn how to teach. It's incredibly difficult to define one's self-worth in turbulent times, and some of my most soothing times this year have been when I pause to say, "I can't do this on my own- I need help."
Temper my self-righteousness, frustrations, arrogance, and inability to see the bigger picture by engendering humility in me, Lord. Make me now, more than ever, Your own.
Almost, almost, almost to the end of the week. Please bless tomorrow as being a productive, low-stress, quick day.
who seeks his strength in flesh,
whose heart turns away from the LORD.
- Jer. 17:5-10
Reflecting on today's reading, I'm not sure if I am taking this quote too far from its original meaning. My first thought immediately went to my emotional state this year and struggling to work so much but not be too emotionally invested in my work. When I reflect on seeking and trusting "human beings" and "flesh" rather than the Lord, it makes me turn inwards to look at my own battle to learn how to teach. It's incredibly difficult to define one's self-worth in turbulent times, and some of my most soothing times this year have been when I pause to say, "I can't do this on my own- I need help."
Temper my self-righteousness, frustrations, arrogance, and inability to see the bigger picture by engendering humility in me, Lord. Make me now, more than ever, Your own.
Almost, almost, almost to the end of the week. Please bless tomorrow as being a productive, low-stress, quick day.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Wednesday, 02.27.13
I cannot believe that we are already two weeks into Lent. This week has inched by, painfully slowly, and yet, it seems like I just started writing my Lenten entries.
The readings today were perhaps a bit dark but that suits my somewhat depressing day. I smiled as I read Jeremiah's words: "Must good be repaid with evil that they should dig a pit to take my life?". Would it be melodramatic to say that I thought of my students immediately when I read this quote? It's funny how disheartening it can be when a whole class of students feels off-track and their behavior deteriorates. On my self-centered days, I take it quite personally, and it is only with time that I can take a step back and say "maybe it was an off day for them; maybe they did not intend to be so disrespectful."
While of course my students are not conspiring to take my life, as in Jeremiah's story, I do think it can be very isolating to feel at times like the enemy when students act up together in class. I find solace in today's psalm:
"Save me, O Lord, in your kindness.
You will free me from the snare they set for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hands I commend my spirit;
you will redeem me, O LORD, O faithful God."
I often reflect that teaching must have some purpose that God knows of, and I do not, in shaping me. I think that a major benefit of this rough first year is increasingly asking God for help as I flounder and struggle. Please help the rest of the week to pass smoothly and quickly Lord. Continue to grant me Your strength and resilience.
The readings today were perhaps a bit dark but that suits my somewhat depressing day. I smiled as I read Jeremiah's words: "Must good be repaid with evil that they should dig a pit to take my life?". Would it be melodramatic to say that I thought of my students immediately when I read this quote? It's funny how disheartening it can be when a whole class of students feels off-track and their behavior deteriorates. On my self-centered days, I take it quite personally, and it is only with time that I can take a step back and say "maybe it was an off day for them; maybe they did not intend to be so disrespectful."
While of course my students are not conspiring to take my life, as in Jeremiah's story, I do think it can be very isolating to feel at times like the enemy when students act up together in class. I find solace in today's psalm:
"Save me, O Lord, in your kindness.
You will free me from the snare they set for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hands I commend my spirit;
you will redeem me, O LORD, O faithful God."
I often reflect that teaching must have some purpose that God knows of, and I do not, in shaping me. I think that a major benefit of this rough first year is increasingly asking God for help as I flounder and struggle. Please help the rest of the week to pass smoothly and quickly Lord. Continue to grant me Your strength and resilience.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Monday, 02.25.13
Already, on my first day back after break, I am nervous about slipping in remembering to post everyday. Allow me, Lord, to continue to prioritize You in my life even when it feels like I have no time left to give.
I was worried about returning to school today, and I love that today's readings are full of humility and grace in the face of God's unceasing mercy; they remind me to thank God even as I bring new needs and flaws to Him. Together, the readings form a rich tapestry of messages that contribute and respond to one another. Daniel notes,
"We have sinned, been wicked and done evil;
we have rebelled and departed from your commandments and your laws.
We have not obeyed your servants the prophets."
The psalm builds upon this repentance and acknowledgement of wrongdoing with the prayer,
"Lord, do not deal with us according to our sins.
Remember not against us the iniquities of the past;
may your compassion quickly come to us,
for we are brought very low."
Finally, the gospel of Luke shares Jesus' message that we must "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful."
Even as I jot a quick post, worried about tomorrow, trying to remember to thank God for a smoother day than I had anticipated today, and weary in the face of the week ahead, I am awed by the message of love and mercy in today's readings.
Strengthen me and make me, more than ever, Your own.
I was worried about returning to school today, and I love that today's readings are full of humility and grace in the face of God's unceasing mercy; they remind me to thank God even as I bring new needs and flaws to Him. Together, the readings form a rich tapestry of messages that contribute and respond to one another. Daniel notes,
"We have sinned, been wicked and done evil;
we have rebelled and departed from your commandments and your laws.
We have not obeyed your servants the prophets."
The psalm builds upon this repentance and acknowledgement of wrongdoing with the prayer,
"Lord, do not deal with us according to our sins.
Remember not against us the iniquities of the past;
may your compassion quickly come to us,
for we are brought very low."
Finally, the gospel of Luke shares Jesus' message that we must "Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful."
Even as I jot a quick post, worried about tomorrow, trying to remember to thank God for a smoother day than I had anticipated today, and weary in the face of the week ahead, I am awed by the message of love and mercy in today's readings.
Strengthen me and make me, more than ever, Your own.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Saturday, 02.23.12
A friend posted a TED talk about being vulnerable in order to connect to and love others, and I thought it would be a lovely place to start for a post today. The daily readings today seem rather solemn and focused on following God's laws and being obedient to His will. Simultaneously, of course, Jesus firmly and hopefully calls us to love one another, enemy and friend alike. I think that in conjunction with the aforementioned TED talk, then, a wonderful message of vulnerability emerges.
I have long struggled to do all that accept-oneself-as-being-imperfect thing, and never has that been more clear than during my first year of teaching. I loved hearing that people need to open up and be vulnerable, put oneself out there, and be gentle with oneself in order to feel worthy of, and as a result find, love. It's a message that takes many shapes and many forms, but today's gospel was somehow refreshingly enlightening. I thought about what exactly an enemy could mean (and the Georgetown daily Lenten reflection also considers how an enemy can be someone that one hates or merely is annoyed with). Could not the greatest enemy of all- brace yourself for a cliche- be oneself? What if we really showed gentle compassion for ourselves? Would not that prepare us to do the same for others? If I could really look in the mirror and say, "It's okay that today was not the best lesson you have planned yet, and that you mishandled several conversations, and that you didn't make any progress on your to-do list, and that you are selfishly tired and frustrated," I think that I would be better able to help my students handle their hiccups and mistakes as well.
Plus, it sounds exhausting to be one's own enemy. I feel like stress and fear and insecurity eat away at me, and I love the idea of being liberated from it all--even if the "cost" is being vulnerable.
Open me up to acceptance of myself and others, with compassion, grace, and love that mirrors Your own, Lord.
I have long struggled to do all that accept-oneself-as-being-imperfect thing, and never has that been more clear than during my first year of teaching. I loved hearing that people need to open up and be vulnerable, put oneself out there, and be gentle with oneself in order to feel worthy of, and as a result find, love. It's a message that takes many shapes and many forms, but today's gospel was somehow refreshingly enlightening. I thought about what exactly an enemy could mean (and the Georgetown daily Lenten reflection also considers how an enemy can be someone that one hates or merely is annoyed with). Could not the greatest enemy of all- brace yourself for a cliche- be oneself? What if we really showed gentle compassion for ourselves? Would not that prepare us to do the same for others? If I could really look in the mirror and say, "It's okay that today was not the best lesson you have planned yet, and that you mishandled several conversations, and that you didn't make any progress on your to-do list, and that you are selfishly tired and frustrated," I think that I would be better able to help my students handle their hiccups and mistakes as well.
Plus, it sounds exhausting to be one's own enemy. I feel like stress and fear and insecurity eat away at me, and I love the idea of being liberated from it all--even if the "cost" is being vulnerable.
Open me up to acceptance of myself and others, with compassion, grace, and love that mirrors Your own, Lord.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Friday, 02.22.13
Today I thought I would post something simple; I want to offer forth a post of thanksgiving. I feel so blessed by God this week, with a much needed break and time to just breathe in. I have felt surrounded by friends; loved; relaxed; renewed; rejuvenated; inspired; at peace. Through times of joy, I want to remember to tell God and show God how grateful I am for His glory and grace. It has almost been a retreat this week, and even in the midst of relaxing, I am starting to tense up at the prospect of returning to school. Let me feel your unwavering grace, Lord. Give me the wisdom to enjoy each day for what it is and not worry about the future unnecessarily.
02.21.13
Lord, on the day I called for help, You answered me. Help me
to remember that You are my hope, that You will respond in my need, and that there is nothing that can keep Your love from Your people. Amen.
Queen Esther shows a humility that I envy in today’s reading. So often this year I have offered forth supplication to the Lord, similar to Esther—help me, renew me, strengthen me, release me. I had a really interesting conversation with my mom today that, to be honest, I was resistant to. She urged me to take control of my life by not victimizing myself merely because I have a difficult job. If I went to work each day and attributed that day to making my car payment and the next day to groceries and the next three to rent, would not my job feel purposeful and rewarding in a different way? she asked. Mom prompted me to think about all the things I love doing on the weekend and breaks and give thanks for my job which makes them possible.
I ask You, Lord, to give me a healthy trust in You while simultaneously fostering a sense of positivity and ownership for my actions. Even as I rely on You, help me to do my share of trying to better my attitude and day-to-day life too.
to remember that You are my hope, that You will respond in my need, and that there is nothing that can keep Your love from Your people. Amen.
Queen Esther shows a humility that I envy in today’s reading. So often this year I have offered forth supplication to the Lord, similar to Esther—help me, renew me, strengthen me, release me. I had a really interesting conversation with my mom today that, to be honest, I was resistant to. She urged me to take control of my life by not victimizing myself merely because I have a difficult job. If I went to work each day and attributed that day to making my car payment and the next day to groceries and the next three to rent, would not my job feel purposeful and rewarding in a different way? she asked. Mom prompted me to think about all the things I love doing on the weekend and breaks and give thanks for my job which makes them possible.
I ask You, Lord, to give me a healthy trust in You while simultaneously fostering a sense of positivity and ownership for my actions. Even as I rely on You, help me to do my share of trying to better my attitude and day-to-day life too.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Wednesday, 02.20.13
"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43: 18-19
Today's readings have always been a little difficult for me to relate to and really embrace. I find it difficult to embrace a vengeful God, even as He demonstrates His grace and mercy through Jonah. It helps me to consider how He must have known all along how the Ninevites would respond to the threat of holy justice. Plus now, more than ever before, I can understand the need for retribution to cause reformation.
While today's readings did not inspire me as much as I had hoped, a friend posted the quote from Isaiah above that really caught my attention and resonated with me. Despite myself, I dread returning to work Monday, and I love this scripture because it gives me much needed hope. I need to focus on the idea that every week can be an improvement for me as I continue to grow and develop. I tense up as I think about the long stretch until Spring break, and I grimace as I consider the start of another year of teaching. This is rigorous work, and I have focused this week on asking God to renew my purpose and guide my ways. Now I ask Him to engender new hope in me. I need to hope and believe that good days are coming, in and out of school.
Break is half-over. Help me to treat each of the last few days as though they are the first.
Today's readings have always been a little difficult for me to relate to and really embrace. I find it difficult to embrace a vengeful God, even as He demonstrates His grace and mercy through Jonah. It helps me to consider how He must have known all along how the Ninevites would respond to the threat of holy justice. Plus now, more than ever before, I can understand the need for retribution to cause reformation.
While today's readings did not inspire me as much as I had hoped, a friend posted the quote from Isaiah above that really caught my attention and resonated with me. Despite myself, I dread returning to work Monday, and I love this scripture because it gives me much needed hope. I need to focus on the idea that every week can be an improvement for me as I continue to grow and develop. I tense up as I think about the long stretch until Spring break, and I grimace as I consider the start of another year of teaching. This is rigorous work, and I have focused this week on asking God to renew my purpose and guide my ways. Now I ask Him to engender new hope in me. I need to hope and believe that good days are coming, in and out of school.
Break is half-over. Help me to treat each of the last few days as though they are the first.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Tuesday 02.19.13
“Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Mt. 6:7-15)
How I want to believe this. I mean, of course I do, but sometimes I think feeling sort of isolated and unsure myself of what I need leads to doubting that God does know how to help me. I think it’s mostly caused by conflicting desires—God let me rest and God help me to have the strength to act; God take over my future but please take me where I will; God make me the best version of myself even as I refuse to let go of temptations.
Yet, from another point of view, God blesses me with what I need when I regularly had no idea that it was what I needed. This semester has been littered with seemingly random blessings that have sustained me and rejuvenated me, but were they truly random? I think not. In some weird way, I think that I was meant to be curled up in bed today, watching Downton Abbey and enjoying the rain.
This break is exactly what I needed. Already, of course, I am questioning how it can be passing so quickly even as I try to savor it. Part of me wants to make lists of things to do and places to go in the days to come; another part of me thinks that spending my day lounging and lazily doing whatever I feel like doing as the hours pass is exactly what I should I be doing.
As the week progresses, I will need to return to the real world, gradually, beginning to grade and plan for next week. Let me enter that transition smoothly and without bitterness, Lord. Prepare me for the space between now and Spring Break (which seems eons away). Rejuvenate me and make me ready for the hard work and late nights to come. You know what I need already, and I want to think that this break will be enough to prepare me for a successful month of March at school.
How I want to believe this. I mean, of course I do, but sometimes I think feeling sort of isolated and unsure myself of what I need leads to doubting that God does know how to help me. I think it’s mostly caused by conflicting desires—God let me rest and God help me to have the strength to act; God take over my future but please take me where I will; God make me the best version of myself even as I refuse to let go of temptations.
Yet, from another point of view, God blesses me with what I need when I regularly had no idea that it was what I needed. This semester has been littered with seemingly random blessings that have sustained me and rejuvenated me, but were they truly random? I think not. In some weird way, I think that I was meant to be curled up in bed today, watching Downton Abbey and enjoying the rain.
This break is exactly what I needed. Already, of course, I am questioning how it can be passing so quickly even as I try to savor it. Part of me wants to make lists of things to do and places to go in the days to come; another part of me thinks that spending my day lounging and lazily doing whatever I feel like doing as the hours pass is exactly what I should I be doing.
As the week progresses, I will need to return to the real world, gradually, beginning to grade and plan for next week. Let me enter that transition smoothly and without bitterness, Lord. Prepare me for the space between now and Spring Break (which seems eons away). Rejuvenate me and make me ready for the hard work and late nights to come. You know what I need already, and I want to think that this break will be enough to prepare me for a successful month of March at school.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Monday 02.18.13
“You shall not bear hatred for your brother in your heart.
Though you may have to reprove him,
do not incur sin because of him.
Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your fellow countrymen.
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
I am the LORD.” (LV 19:11-18)
I have been feeling a little downtrodden lately and have not been quite sure why. There are many, many reasons, but when I was reflecting on today’s reading, I thought about how I have felt almost toxically negative this year. As a teacher, it is my job to enforce rules and create an environment where everyone can learn, feel respected, and act productively. The reality of creating that environment means that much of my energy throughout a school day is handling conflict, redirecting behavior, and providing constructive criticism. Yes, I try and try and try to be positive around and build strong relationships with and cultivate self-confidence in my students.
At the end of the day, though, I question if feeling so drained and exhausted and even, at times, strongly disliked means that I feel isolated and unsure of living out God’s love. I work because I care, but sometimes I just feel misunderstood—like my sarcasm is a foreign language, like my dry humor is taken as rude, like my positive intentions are lost in translation.
I’m hoping that after ski week I can return to school and consciously pursue being more positive. It’s been a goal of mine for some time, but maybe I can do more to reach out to family and friends and coworkers to let them know that I appreciate them and value them. If I can let more people know that I care and love them as I love myself, perhaps the rewards reaped could be twofold—maybe I will feel more secure in living in the way that God has called and simultaneously come to love myself more in the midst of a rough year.
Pour through me with Your grace, Lord, so that I can act in a way befitting Your child.
Pax to me and mine.
Though you may have to reprove him,
do not incur sin because of him.
Take no revenge and cherish no grudge against your fellow countrymen.
You shall love your neighbor as yourself.
I am the LORD.” (LV 19:11-18)
I have been feeling a little downtrodden lately and have not been quite sure why. There are many, many reasons, but when I was reflecting on today’s reading, I thought about how I have felt almost toxically negative this year. As a teacher, it is my job to enforce rules and create an environment where everyone can learn, feel respected, and act productively. The reality of creating that environment means that much of my energy throughout a school day is handling conflict, redirecting behavior, and providing constructive criticism. Yes, I try and try and try to be positive around and build strong relationships with and cultivate self-confidence in my students.
At the end of the day, though, I question if feeling so drained and exhausted and even, at times, strongly disliked means that I feel isolated and unsure of living out God’s love. I work because I care, but sometimes I just feel misunderstood—like my sarcasm is a foreign language, like my dry humor is taken as rude, like my positive intentions are lost in translation.
I’m hoping that after ski week I can return to school and consciously pursue being more positive. It’s been a goal of mine for some time, but maybe I can do more to reach out to family and friends and coworkers to let them know that I appreciate them and value them. If I can let more people know that I care and love them as I love myself, perhaps the rewards reaped could be twofold—maybe I will feel more secure in living in the way that God has called and simultaneously come to love myself more in the midst of a rough year.
Pour through me with Your grace, Lord, so that I can act in a way befitting Your child.
Pax to me and mine.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Sunday 02.17.13
Luke 4:1-13
Jesus answered him,
“It is written, One does not live on bread alone.”
For the first time in a long time, I heard a homily today that felt wonderfully fulfilling and engaging. The priest addressed the way in which Jesus’ story is our story too; when Christ is tempted by Satan in today’s gospel, he experiences that which we experience. Though Christ is divine, God chose to become human. I often feel some inexplicable jealousy for Christ’s ability to show endurance and self-discipline against sin: why is He the kind of human I am not and am not capable of being?
The Georgetown Lenten reflection today thoughtfully notes, “In the course of our lives, we may sometimes feel that we have been driven into the desert. We hunger and thirst for something we can’t name; we feel lonely, unloved, unimportant, and unfulfilled. We may feel lost and abandoned. We’re faced with questions we’d rather not answer.”
It occurred to me that there are many things that God has forced me to confront this year that I would rather not face and questions I still refuse to answer. I am scared to think about what jobs, programs, and opportunities I will begin to pursue when I conclude TFA, and yet, I continue to refuse to hand it over to God. I try… but then I worry and ask, “will I ever find a place and a career that feel right?”
I miss the past, relentlessly, rather than taking advantage of opportunities. I waste time and lambast God for giving me a stressful life. I wish my faith were stronger when I don’t dedicate enough time to it. I feel hungry for security and peace about my future, yet I haven’t devoted it to God, nor have I dedicated time to actually researching opportunities. It’s as though in the midst of feeling out of control of my life in many ways, I am forced to reassess my priorities and how much I actually do have control over.
The Lenten reflection also notes, “Rather than leading the Israelites directly from the bounty of Egypt to ‘a land flowing with milk and honey,’ God led them into the desert, to a place of stillness and solitude so that they might hear him more clearly, respond more deeply, and worship more faithfully.” I must ask myself, did God place me in an almost untenable position this year so that I can change and grow in ways that are not yet visible to me? Is this all deliberate, and rather than him being sadistic, He has a loving plan for me?
In my darkest moments, I slip into what the priest called “me-ism” today: I focus on me to the extent that I do not give God the credit He deserves. I focus on all that I want, all that I think is best for me, all that I doubt, all that I would rather be doing, all that I have accomplished. What I really hunger for more than all else is a sense of selflessness that can liberate me from me.
Today’s gospel says that bread alone is not enough. This year I have focused on material things as a comfort—my new car, decorating my apartment, buying clothes, getting Starbucks way too often, buying more expensive groceries—the list could go on and on. I feel as though God wants me to return my life to a healthy equilibrium, where I turn inwards and upwards for peace; find more ways to use my talents to help others; dedicate my future to His will, whatever that may be. I want to worry less and crave more—more of Him, more of His peace, more of His grace.
I want to really know that bread alone is not enough—unless it is the bread of everlasting life. Allow me to use Lent as a time to renew my faith and try to deepen my understanding of my purpose.
Jesus answered him,
“It is written, One does not live on bread alone.”
For the first time in a long time, I heard a homily today that felt wonderfully fulfilling and engaging. The priest addressed the way in which Jesus’ story is our story too; when Christ is tempted by Satan in today’s gospel, he experiences that which we experience. Though Christ is divine, God chose to become human. I often feel some inexplicable jealousy for Christ’s ability to show endurance and self-discipline against sin: why is He the kind of human I am not and am not capable of being?
The Georgetown Lenten reflection today thoughtfully notes, “In the course of our lives, we may sometimes feel that we have been driven into the desert. We hunger and thirst for something we can’t name; we feel lonely, unloved, unimportant, and unfulfilled. We may feel lost and abandoned. We’re faced with questions we’d rather not answer.”
It occurred to me that there are many things that God has forced me to confront this year that I would rather not face and questions I still refuse to answer. I am scared to think about what jobs, programs, and opportunities I will begin to pursue when I conclude TFA, and yet, I continue to refuse to hand it over to God. I try… but then I worry and ask, “will I ever find a place and a career that feel right?”
I miss the past, relentlessly, rather than taking advantage of opportunities. I waste time and lambast God for giving me a stressful life. I wish my faith were stronger when I don’t dedicate enough time to it. I feel hungry for security and peace about my future, yet I haven’t devoted it to God, nor have I dedicated time to actually researching opportunities. It’s as though in the midst of feeling out of control of my life in many ways, I am forced to reassess my priorities and how much I actually do have control over.
The Lenten reflection also notes, “Rather than leading the Israelites directly from the bounty of Egypt to ‘a land flowing with milk and honey,’ God led them into the desert, to a place of stillness and solitude so that they might hear him more clearly, respond more deeply, and worship more faithfully.” I must ask myself, did God place me in an almost untenable position this year so that I can change and grow in ways that are not yet visible to me? Is this all deliberate, and rather than him being sadistic, He has a loving plan for me?
In my darkest moments, I slip into what the priest called “me-ism” today: I focus on me to the extent that I do not give God the credit He deserves. I focus on all that I want, all that I think is best for me, all that I doubt, all that I would rather be doing, all that I have accomplished. What I really hunger for more than all else is a sense of selflessness that can liberate me from me.
Today’s gospel says that bread alone is not enough. This year I have focused on material things as a comfort—my new car, decorating my apartment, buying clothes, getting Starbucks way too often, buying more expensive groceries—the list could go on and on. I feel as though God wants me to return my life to a healthy equilibrium, where I turn inwards and upwards for peace; find more ways to use my talents to help others; dedicate my future to His will, whatever that may be. I want to worry less and crave more—more of Him, more of His peace, more of His grace.
I want to really know that bread alone is not enough—unless it is the bread of everlasting life. Allow me to use Lent as a time to renew my faith and try to deepen my understanding of my purpose.
Saturday, 02.16.13
“Faith without doubt is fanaticism.”
I signed up for the Georgetown Lenten reflection series online, and it has been a wonderful source for my own reflections. Today’s reflection was about doubting God and questioning God, but nonetheless being loved by the God one cannot fully seem to trust.
During a year of some poignant lows and lots of questioning—about myself, my purpose, my vocation, my future, my happiness, my goals, and my faith—I have not relied on my faith nearly as much as I could have. I want to see going to church, reflecting on my faith, deepening my relationship with God as privileges and joys; now I am budgeting time and forsaking some of the things that are most important to me.
Selfishly I ask God to renew and revive my love and enthusiasm for His calling and our relationship.
I signed up for the Georgetown Lenten reflection series online, and it has been a wonderful source for my own reflections. Today’s reflection was about doubting God and questioning God, but nonetheless being loved by the God one cannot fully seem to trust.
During a year of some poignant lows and lots of questioning—about myself, my purpose, my vocation, my future, my happiness, my goals, and my faith—I have not relied on my faith nearly as much as I could have. I want to see going to church, reflecting on my faith, deepening my relationship with God as privileges and joys; now I am budgeting time and forsaking some of the things that are most important to me.
Selfishly I ask God to renew and revive my love and enthusiasm for His calling and our relationship.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Thursday 02.14.13
2 Corinthians 12:9-10 "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'”
I almost forgot to post, but remembered in the nick of time. Hopefully this will become a smooth habit. Today was rough, and as I so often do, I found myself thinking why me? Why am I here? Why can't I be doing something easier?
I wish that I could put others first more often. A friend of mine who is also a teacher posted on facebook about how she realized recently that so many students need more love. I think that I want my work to come from a place of love but that when I am so drained and fed up and over all of it, I lose sight of the good I could do.
I snapped at some students today when I was multitasking on overload, and then later a student made a simple but thoughtful gesture that surprised and humbled me. Grace me with your strength, Lord.
One more day until ski week.
I almost forgot to post, but remembered in the nick of time. Hopefully this will become a smooth habit. Today was rough, and as I so often do, I found myself thinking why me? Why am I here? Why can't I be doing something easier?
I wish that I could put others first more often. A friend of mine who is also a teacher posted on facebook about how she realized recently that so many students need more love. I think that I want my work to come from a place of love but that when I am so drained and fed up and over all of it, I lose sight of the good I could do.
I snapped at some students today when I was multitasking on overload, and then later a student made a simple but thoughtful gesture that surprised and humbled me. Grace me with your strength, Lord.
One more day until ski week.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Lenten Reflections
I have not blogged in far too long, mainly because my life has been a maelstrom of confusion, chaos, and darkness (ha—but really). Looking back at my past entries, I see a common thread—trying to find and pull out the beauty in my experiences. And lately, it has been quite difficult to do. Finally, finally, teaching is becoming slightly easier.
As I look through my past posts and this year, I feel like I need a time and a place to be honest with myself and God—about my needs, frustrations, and temptations. I want to use this space and this time in my life to seek God more and more consciously. I’ve lost myself at times, I think because I have not prioritized that which anchors me—my faith.
My Lenten goal is to reflect very often. Daily, in fact.
Today was a day like any other. I felt incredibly frustrated at school and prayed for patience. I went to Ash Wednesday mass and felt frustrated by us, humanity, looking around the cathedral and hearing laughter, talking, distractions, rude comments, vanity--while ironically enough realizing the depth of my own self-righteousness in the midst of my frustration. I sit here tired and drained, resenting my work. Let me, Lord, seek you even in the most negative of times, and perhaps more difficult, in the most mundane of times.
So, to conclude my first post, here is a psalm that I would like to inspire me for my Lenten journey, a time of self-reflection and growth:
"Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me and know my anxious thoughts;
And see if there be any hurtful way in me,
And lead me in the everlasting way."
- Psalm 139: 23-24
As I look through my past posts and this year, I feel like I need a time and a place to be honest with myself and God—about my needs, frustrations, and temptations. I want to use this space and this time in my life to seek God more and more consciously. I’ve lost myself at times, I think because I have not prioritized that which anchors me—my faith.
My Lenten goal is to reflect very often. Daily, in fact.
Today was a day like any other. I felt incredibly frustrated at school and prayed for patience. I went to Ash Wednesday mass and felt frustrated by us, humanity, looking around the cathedral and hearing laughter, talking, distractions, rude comments, vanity--while ironically enough realizing the depth of my own self-righteousness in the midst of my frustration. I sit here tired and drained, resenting my work. Let me, Lord, seek you even in the most negative of times, and perhaps more difficult, in the most mundane of times.
So, to conclude my first post, here is a psalm that I would like to inspire me for my Lenten journey, a time of self-reflection and growth:
"Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me and know my anxious thoughts;
And see if there be any hurtful way in me,
And lead me in the everlasting way."
- Psalm 139: 23-24
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)