Telling the Truth

connecting the dots of my life

Tag: Lent

March 14, 2017

What will they say about me?

I was late getting to bed last night. In the evening we’d attended a memorial service at our church for a long-time member. Kathleen made a difference in the lives of uncounted family, friends, neighbors and strangers. The sanctuary was filled with witnesses.

Kathleen’s life was long and lively. Always full of energy, joy, encouragement of others and raucous support for our local baseball team—the Philadelphia Phillies. Her husband died suddenly 17 years ago, a grief-fed love she carried with her every day of her remaining years on this earth.

The memorial service was outstanding. A collage of shared memories, a meditation on life and death, several of her favorite hymns, and multiple genres of music performed by visitors and members whose lives she touched.

I knew Kathleen, but not from way back. Until last night I had no idea how deeply she had immersed herself in the lives of others—via music, Phillies baseball games, family relationships, her neighborhood, and of course, the life of our church. Even though she had officially retired as music director years ago.

When I got home I felt sad and teary. I wondered what people might say about me when I’m gone. And how full the sanctuary would be for my memorial service.

Without intending to, I began comparing myself with my friend. The kind of comparison that leads to unhappiness. That gnawing sense of being ‘less-than.’ Feeling shame and even regret for my life and what I have and have not accomplished. Wandering around, trying to find myself, trying things on, wanting desperately to be somebody. And to be loved.

It’s Lent. Time to practice letting go my desire for affection and esteem…among other things.

Here’s what I wrote down before I went to sleep last night.

Remember the white stone! Your white stone! The one God will give you, with your new name. Not comparable to anyone else’s distinct new name. This isn’t a competition. Yet (comparison) has been a source of much discontent in my life.

Last night I was painfully aware of my desire for esteem and affection. I don’t want to fall off the cliff into a thicket of jealousy or envy. And I don’t want to be left hanging. I believe there’s another side of this practice.

Letting go isn’t about going away empty-handed. It’s about keeping my hands open, ready to receive my white stone and new name. My one-of-a-kind name. Inscribed by my Creator on the white stone. My one-of-a-kind ‘well done, beloved daughter.’

Plus any other gifts my Creator wants to give me before I receive the white stone. So long as my hands are open and receptive.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 14 March 2017
Photo found at yldist.com
Response to WordPress Daily Prompt: Immerse

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March 12, 2017

What I’m giving up

I didn’t grow up in a church tradition that required me to give things up for Lent. Yet today I’m asking what I’m giving up for Lent.

Why now? I think it’s related to my health, my age, my ability to live as an independent woman, my need to have things go my way at this time in my life.

I feel quite well most of the time. Perhaps weary and a bit stressed out now and then, but not awful. Yet sometimes I fall over the edge–into anger or fear. It’s usually triggered when something doesn’t go the way I anticipated it would. It’s like throwing a lighted match into a dry haystack. Or going over a cliff. Too late to step back and do something different.

So what to do? I don’t have a magic formula. However, I’ve been reading a wonderful book about prayer. It’s Cynthia Bourgeault’s book called Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening. It seems connected to what’s happening.

Her book is helping me reconsider these episodes. They flare up when I hit moments of extreme frustration. Sometimes they’re about my health and wellbeing. Other times they’re triggered by memories of things that happened to me as a professional woman.

The goal I’m after is this: to learn ways of interrupting what’s about to happen before I go over the cliff. I know I won’t learn this overnight. Still, I want to recognize, welcome and listen to those small signs before I go over the cliff or say things I’ll regret. Sometimes that’s not possible. Other times, it is.

As part of this discipline, Cynthia offers a litany written by a friend. It’s a prayer to be offered as often as needed, without having to make it up myself. It’s for the moment I realize my frustration and anger are escalating, ready to overflow. It won’t work if I’ve already exploded.

I grew up believing everything unwelcome in me needed to be  ‘fixed’ if not denounced and forsaken. Slam the door in its face! Send it packing! Or at least keep it hidden in a closet. It’s not the ‘real me.’

This, however, is about the real me. The person I am in God’s presence. Just as I am. Especially when I’m unhappy about the way things are going. What’s happening in me has something to tell me. Instead of slamming the door in its face or denying its presence, perhaps I could welcome it. Listen, and learn from it. After all, it’s part of me whether I like it or not.

So here’s the litany, an active giving up of something. Not just for Lent.

I let go my desire for security and survival.
I let go my desire for esteem and affection.
I let go my desire for power and control.
I let go my desire to change the situation.

Quoted by Cynthia Bourgeault in Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, p. 147 (Cowley Publications 2004)

I long to stay fully present to God and, so far as possible, to the truth about myself. No matter what rises to the surface or comes at me without warning. Whether it’s anger, fear, pain or death itself.

© Elouise Renich Fraser, 11 March 2017
Image found at kairosjourney.org

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