Jesus or His bread?

I laid in bed last night and tried to open my heart to Him. I tried to tell Him what I was feeling and articulate what I was longing for or aching for but there was just this sadness.  A weariness.  So I closed my eyes and went to sleep banking on new mercies.

And here they are to meet me.  Not in the way I would prefer, which is waking up feeling good and clear and excited about the week ahead.

Lent 9: thanking thoughts

Day 9!  I’m honestly surprised I’ve made it this far.  (I mean, in Lent writing, not in life – although, that too).

I’m exhausted tonight. Much to do and no time to write, but discipline is only discipline if you do it when you don’t have time or inclination.

Here’s a feeling I have today: gratitude.  I’m thankful.  Filled with thanks. Much of it.

Lent 4: a threat to love

So many thoughts running in my head today.  These thoughts are definitely just that. Thoughts. Not answers, not conclusions, (how very postmodern of me).

I’ve been thinking today about the complicated relationship between love and disappointment. I’ve been wondering if we’re sabotaging the components of healthy relationships – intimacy, passion & commitment – with our fear of disappointment.

Please note: it is not disappointment that I see sabotaging healthy components, but rather, the fear of disappointment.

Lent:1

Well, welcome to Lent.

I am not a Lent person.  I grew up in an Atheist/Catholic hybrid home, so I have fond (NOT) memories of Lent being the time where I was supposed to prove I belonged to the Catholic side by being forced to give up something good and I never really understood why.  As a result, I still don’t like it.  I have residual feelings of Lent being about reluctant (dragged-kicking-and-screaming) ‘sacrifice’. If you weren’t reluctant, it was because you were an angel-child and it made you a hero.  If you were reluctant, you were selfish.

So, sometimes, that’s how judgey-me feels about Lent.

The 2016 story of us

When I was 25 I dated a guy who loved it when I would tell him the story of us: how we met, what I felt then, when it changed, and he would interject, winding his version of the story into mine.

It’s one of my favorite past times: with coworkers, with friends, family.  Sharing first impressions, memories, shifting intimacy, growing connection: all of us telling our version of the story of us.  I do this with Jesus too.  Sometimes it’s the full epic version, and sometimes it’s the story of us that day or year.