Listening to God
Rush, rush, rush. So much of my life is about rushing around from one thing to the next. Lent is a time when we are supposed to be more contemplative and think about the divine but what am I doing about that? Forcing myself to slow down isn't easy. All too often slowing down involves putting on a movie and falling asleep in front of the TV. Rarely does that bring me closer to God!
I have been doing two intentional things this Lent. First, I have been attending Wednesday Lenten service at St. Mark Lutheran in Salem. Thirty minutes of song and prayer around the cross. Surely I have time for that. Secondly, I have been reading Lenten reflections called "Renewed for Life" by Henri J.M. Nouwen. I think I can make time for three paragraphs a day.
As I crawled into bed last night, I picked up the slender booklet and thumbed through trying to remember if I should be looking for the first or second Saturday in Lent. I suppose if I had been faithful about reading every night this wouldn't have been such a challenge. Maybe I should do two readings night to make up for lost time. I remind myself this is a journey, not a race and settle on the first Saturday because it was the first one I came to.
Four paragraphs don't take long to read but there is a surprising amount to think about in just four short paragraphs so I read and reread the devotion. Two statements stood out: "To pray for one another is to acknowledge, in the presence of God, that we belong to each other as children of the same God......We are brothers and sisters, not competitors or rivals." How often have I succumbed to petty jealousy. I try not to say them out loud but the thoughts well up unasked for, and sometimes with a close friend, I have so much fun gritching and complaining about that person who is annoying me!
I guess Henri Nouwen is gently reminding me to pray rather than gritch.
"To pray is to listen." Those words jumped off the page at me. My prayers are full of asking for this and that, full of me talking but very little waiting for the reply. A few times I have gotten a reply and, I can tell you, it is very unsettling. Maybe that is why I am not such a great listener. It is easier and safer to just keep talking. And keep busy. And keep rushing.
"Today, I will examine my many worldly compulsions and how I cling to them. Help me, Lord, to cut free of them that I may listen to your Spirit of love." I don't think I can do that alone. Thankfully, I am not.
My Mother's Birthday
I am so blessed to have my parents still around to talk to. My father is 92 and Mom just turned 90 on Friday. Mom tires easily these days so we celebrated with a small family gathering at my sister's at noon. Here are a few random memories of my mother from my childhood:
She always wore poly-cotton house dresses with a narrow belt at the waist. She would write notes to herself on little slips of paper and tuck them in her belt as reminders.
She was an avid reader and instilled a love of books in all her children. I loved the way she read Winnie the Pooh and the voices she had for all of the characters.
I remember her standing at the kitchen counter with her hand on the electric butter churn to make sure the top didn't vibrate off the base. She would read as she waited for the butter to form.
She was passionate about her volunteer work with 4H, the League of Women Voters, the Mental Health Association, and assisting my father when he was in the legislature. She wasn't always home when I came in from school but there would always be a meal in the oven with the oven timer set.
She still loves crossword puzzles, Scrabble, and children's poetry.
Happy Birthday, Mom.
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