Vulnerability

I'm not someone who "does" vulnerability well, but I admire those who seem to live in a state of open vulnerability. (You know who you are.) I don't know if it is the fact that at different times in my life that I have been told that it is not ok to be vulnerable or if it is me that is cautious to place my vulnerability in someone elses's hands.

I think it is some of both.

Last night, at house church, we were talking about the season of Lent and what we felt God was calling us to "give up" or to "take on." One of the questions we were called to ask ourselves in our private times of devotion was the following, "How can I use this season of lent to become more vulnerable? How can I help others become more vulnerable? How can I help create a safe place for that to happen?"

It was as if that question triggered in the minds and hearts of those in house church the ability to be open. One confession, then another, and another.

As we laid hands on each other to pray, I realized it is in that place that the healing truly begins, that in the vulnerability is strength and a binding together of the people of God.

Timing

Now that the tv's off, I find that I have been anticipating having a "tv crash," so I have taken my free time and filled it with things, so as not to be distracted by the fact that I have a tv I'm not watching (or perhaps a Bible I wanted to be reading during that time). This could be a more challenging lent than I thought.

Still, these past few weeks have been busy (though I have to stop acting suprised that I am busy. So goes the life of a youthworker) and continue to be busy (tv or no tv). It has been three, nearyly four years of busy.

Yesterday, after I'd slept in, had coffee and lunch with Suz and gone shopping with another friend, I realized that God, in His timing, had answered my prayers from a year ago. He has provided for me a place that feels like home, with people that feel like family. Not one thing that I brought before the Lord (in a bit of a petulant state, I might add), did he neglect to answer. Silly, particular things and in more than one way. He answered more fully and richly than I could have imagined.

I guess, though, that it has always been about God's timing and working in my life. Had I not had last year would I have come to the place where I am now?

I see that God is good and active in my life. I see through others that He is faithful to me, that He loves me, that He has answered the groanings in my heart and soul.

So, I continue to trust God, in His perfect timing, for other things as well.

Ripped

Sometimes I wish that I was a Jewish person living in ancient times. Grief was very visible. You ripped your garments, covered your face with ashes and were allowed to wail at the top of your lungs. Grief was very apparent.

How comfortable would it be to have that visible grief. Everyone would know that there was something you were grieving. When Jesus was taken before Caiaphas to be tried, Caiaphas ripped his robes in grief and rage; Job, in mourning, ripped his robes and sat down in a pile of dirt. Grief seems so easy. That outward demonstration of grief clearly showed your inward condition.

However, in last night's reading from Joel, God calls us to "rend our hearts and not our garments." God calls us to tear our hearts in mourning, to tear our hearts in sorrow, in repentance.

Of course, God has always been more concerned with our inward condition than our outward demonstrations. In Hosea he tells us that he desires, "mercy, not sacrifice," and in last night's Gospel reading we heard that we are not to pray outloud on the streets, but quietly, in our rooms.

How fitting for the beginning of lent, the season of reflection and repentance, of mourning, that we are called to tear our hearts in preparation for the tearing of our Savior's.

Ash Wednesday

First, an introduction:
At Youth Quake with my Middle Schoolers this past weekend, I got a little emotional (I'm learning that's a combination of lack of sleep and stress). During family time, I cried as I told my kids just how much I want them to know Jesus and His love for them, how I prayed that weekend was the beginning of them experiencing Jesus in a very real way.

The more I pondered this on the drive home the more I realized that I don't feel like I know Jesus the way I pray that my kids will come to do. I've been so distracted by other things I feel like I've lost a very good friend in the process.

Last year, my friend, Spode, gave up television for her lenten fast. While I thought she was maybe a little crazy (or a lot crazy), I admired her for that and saw God really working through that time of television silence.

A few weeks ago, after watching the same episode of Scrubs for the bajillionth time before falling asleep to the noise of the television, I realized that TV has become a distraction for my spiritual life. The noise of the tv has drowned out the quiet movement of the Holy Spirit and I need a break.

I need to re-focus.

So, this Lenten season, I am turning off the TV and re-reading the Gospels during those times of quiet and hoping to reacquaint myself with this Jesus that I follow.