Let me just say that this season will not be forgotten.

I hope these posts have been encouraging to you, as I’ve tried my best to honestly share my experience participating in Christ’s death before celebrating his resurrection.  There is a bit more to say in terms of it, but for today, I’d like to keep it simple.  I came across this prayer, and I find it quite fitting these days.

Almighty God,
You know that we have no power in ourselves
to help ourselves:
Keep us both outwardly in our bodies
and inwardly in our souls,
that we may be defended from all adversities
which may happen to the body,
and from all evil thoughts
which may assault and hurt the soul;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Take that in.  Rinse & Repeat...

Happy Monday to you all, and welcome back to the series of posts about this season of Lent.  In case you haven’t read them yet, check them out and get up to speed on the wrestling.  They’re linked below for you convenience.

• Here’s to Death: Lent (part one)
• Here’s to Death: Lent (part two)
• Take Time to Stop: Lent (part three)
• Gaining Wisdom: Lent (part four)
• A Break in the Clouds: Lent (part five)
• Be Thawed & Rejoice: Lent (part six)

Ok, back to today…

You know, sometimes Friday’s quote doesn’t seem believable to me.  Sometimes there’s
only one deafening sound from God in times of great need, and it’s this:

Silence.

During this season of dying, which has felt really close to what I imagine the real thing feels like, I’ve had my share of the [seemingly] silent treatment from God.  Why doesn’t he speak up when I’m crying out?  Why can’t I seem to find him anywhere?

Is he testing me?  Is the silence a part of some sort of lesson?  Perhaps it’s to show me why faith is necessary.

I have a feeling that I’m just not paying attention.

Romans 1:20 says:

For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.

You see, I really have no excuse for missing out on seeing his power displayed and his nature personified.  For one, He’s everywhere.  I’ve seen his power on display at the Grand Canyon and the ocean.  And I’ve seen glimpses of his nature in my wife’s patience with me(you have no idea), my co-worker’s compassion for those struggling, and Eliud, whom I’ve never even met.

Maybe I should lift my head up and take everything in.  Maybe I should pay closer attention to all of the reminders that are around me.  I feel like the image above conveys what he says to us…

Feel free to look around.  You’ll see me.

Where are you seeing God in your life right now?

image: Sam

I’m learning a lot during this season, both about God and myself.  For that I’m extremely grateful.

And I’m also quite sore, frankly.  It’s been hard to keep posting these Lent posts, but I’m trying to provide an authentic narrative of my experience in participation of Christ’s death.  This has proven to be a trying time.  But, I’m confident that by sharing in our sufferings we can encourage one another.

As I mentioned a while back, when God peels away the layers that cloud our vision of him it’s painful.   These layers run deep in my life, and specifically, I think God is peeling away one in particular:  appearance.

I simply care about what others think.

I have insecurities just like everyone else.  I often struggle with the thought that I’m never taken seriously, mainly because I’m requested to say something funny by others, forcing me (in my mind) to go into performance-mode.  But, my go-to compensatory move when insecure is to always bring humor to the situation.  So, this plays right into an already bad hand.  I am quick-witted and sarcastic.  I used to think this was possibly a spiritual gift…turns out it’s not.  Any time I’m out and go into this mode, whether for the entertainment of others or insecure compensation, I return home depressed.  It’s a vicious cycle that runs me into the ground mentally and emotionally.

But why am I such a slave to this?  Why do I care so much about what others think of me?  I know that my identity is in Christ and not other people.

Or do I?

I am petitioning to God that he would reveal this issue in my life completely.  That he would help me overcome the performance.  Besides, it’s not a performance he’s after from me — it’s relationship.  This is a core issue for me, and I am grateful that he’s showing me that.  Again, when the layers are pulled back it’s painful.  But, what I hope comes from this will be cause for celebration.  I’m trying to start doing that now.

For I know Sunday’s coming.

What are you learning about God and yourself during this season?  How can I pray for you?

image: sam

I got pulled over last night…

Apparently I ran a stop sign.  I’ll admit up front that I did not come to a complete stop.  It was a total California-roll.  I don’t recall ever running a stop sign in my 13 years of driving.  Well, until last night.

My wife thought it was fairly amusing until she saw the look on my face.  You see, she not only reads my posts.  She lives with the omissions.  Lucky her…

This season of Lent is proving to be unlike any other.  I hope it’s because I’m actually asking God to kill things in my life that keep me from him.  Sure, I was serious when I talked about needing to participate in Christ’s death. But honestly, it looks a lot better written out than lived out.  This is painful stuff, man.  I’m either going to be of greater faith and character, or clinically depressed. I’m not sure which.

I don’t want to over-spiritualize this, but in a way I feel like getting this ticket is a reminder to me that some things need to die.  I immediately felt entitled to a verbal warning when the officer walked up to my car.  And I can’t imagine why, really.  I did break the law, after all.  I then pleaded my case to my wife, telling her that I’m pretty sure the car came to a stop (this is where her amusement started).  I started to blame her for distracting me, but almost immediately stopped, thank goodness.  I had so many questions in the moment, but never this one:

Why couldn’t I have just taken the time to stop?

We weren’t in a hurry.  There was no traffic.  The bottom line is that I was simply not paying attention.  It’s not that I was distracted by bad things.  My wife and I were talking on our way back from dinner.  I was enjoying her companionship.  But, it was a distraction nonetheless.  My priority should have been the road. That, in turn, would have been looking out for my wife.  I think it’s the same way with Christ.  He should be my focus.  He should be important.  Distractions should step aside.  Why can’t I just take the time to stop and see him?

Be encouraged today if you feel distracted, weighed down with different things, or just worn out.  I am all of these lately.  Let us be reminded to take the time to stop and refocus on the road.  The one he’s laid out for us.  Remember, it’s narrow, folks.  I would appreciate your prayers during this hard(but hopefully fruitful) season as I pray for you as well.

Speaking of which…how can I pray for you?

image: sam

Well, the season of Lent has officially started.   Christians will, for the next forty days, follow Jesus through his suffering and ultimately his death.  We do this in order to truly have something to rejoice in this Easter.  Lent gives us the opportunity to do some things that we’re normally horrendous at:  grieving and remembering.

Henri Nouwen has this to say about it:

A Prayer for Lent, by Henri Nouwen

How often have I lived through these weeks without paying much attention to penance, fasting, and prayer? How often have I missed the spiritual fruits of the season without even being aware of it?  But how can I ever really celebrate Easter without observing Lent?  How can I rejoice fully in your Resurrection when I have avoided participating in your death?  Yes, Lord, I have to die – with you, through you, and in you – and thus become ready to recognize you when you appear to me in your Resurrection.  There is so much in me that needs to die: false attachments, greed and anger, impatience and stinginess…I see clearly now how little I have died with you, really gone your way and been faithful to it.  O Lord, make this Lenten season different from the other ones.  Let me find you again.  Amen.

A Cry for Mercy:  Prayers from the Genesee; Image Books, 2002

Let this season be different than others.  Perhaps you’re like me and there needs to be a lot of death in your life.  Death from pride, selfishness, fear, anger.  Ask God to peel away the layers that cloud your vision of him.  Really, ask him.  When he does (and he will), ask him to do it every day.  You and I both need it, there’s no question.

But, do we really want it?