Day 4: Unfolding

 

I'm already sick of Lent. 

My infusion meds kicked in today and I felt - blah.  It's one of those days where I'm just trying to get from the beginning to the end and the added challenge of being kind to a family that expects motherhood to carry on without missing a beat leaves me full of resentment and self-pity. 

I've been wrestling hard with this all day.  What could I write in my blog? I have full bristle armor on.  I don't feel like being gentle or optimistic or even spiritual.  So I tossed up prayers I could muster "Change my heart,  o God." And "see me in my human state,  and have mercy on me."

I,  in fact, did mostly keep the lid on and kept my lenten practice of not raising my voice. My kids reminded me once and I shut my face and retreated to the quiet of my room.

I decided to walk the kids downtown to the movie theater so I could sit a few hours. We watched "Flow" the animated best picture. It was artsy and probably exactly what I needed. 

It was disorienting.  Something halfway between a myazaki film and watching squirrels and stray cats out the back window. I didn't know if the kids would make it through. Miles got a little restless and I took him to the concession stand for an enormous bucket of popcorn and an icee. 

The movie was more a poem than a narrative and it focused on the unexpected events that turn our world upside down. I felt like I was watching someone process a cancer diagnosis or a sudden cross country move or an unexpected pregnancy.  

I thought about times my own life was upended.  Suddenly placed on a new course.  There are times when life has had a gentle road where one thing built on another going in a steady direction.  But often,  life has been full of sudden right turns, detour signs and pitfalls.  

This Lent is working on me but today does not resolve itself into a pithy, easy-to-follow devotion. Today is the longer unfolding that creates space for spiritual growth. I'm grumpy and my joints hurt. I have a headache and I'd rather not think about theology for now.  

But here,  in my grumpy self-loathing, 

God is here too. 

In the upheaval of life and the uncertainty of the future. 

God is with us.  

In our unfolding and our reluctant path to confession and forgiveness. 

God is with us.  

In hardened hearts that just need to go to bed and try again tomorrow. 

God is with us.

God is with me in this mess and in whatever mess you are in,  God is with you too.