Giving up something for Lent is a longstanding tradition in many branches of the Christian faith. Although it is a fairly new concept for me personally, the last few years have seen me attempting to fast from something (or do something new) for the season of Lent.
This year as Lent approached, I knew what I needed to give up, and I knew it would be hard.
You see, life has been pretty tough lately—for the past six months or so. I've had to watch several people that I am close to go through some significant struggles, and it left me feeling very isolated and lonely. The way that I mostly dealt with that was through writing. I blogged, and wrote stories, and poetry, and journaled and journaled and journaled. But whenever I just felt too tired or overwhelmed to write, I turned to social media. I know social media can be a good thing, but I knew I wasn't using it well. I would scroll and scroll and it would make me feel worse, not better. But when I felt so overwhelmed and like I just had to escape somehow, that was the only thing I felt like I could turn to—the only thing easy enough to turn to—and it was becoming more and more frequent.
So when I considered whether to give something up for Lent, I knew that I needed to give up social media. Specifically, I needed to give up scrolling social media, and any other way that I would go to it for escape or affirmation. So no posting just to get likes or comments or to get people to read my blog. I did, however, decide to continue accessing social media as a way of communication and as a tool. I have many friends that I primarily communicate with through facebook. I use tumblr for some of my writing. So I have still been accessing social media, but it has all been very pragmatic.
So, how has it been going? It has been hard. Absolutely. Because of circumstances outside of my control, life has been even more challenging over the past couple of months, leaving me struggling with hurt, anger, and the uncertainty of the future. And I have nowhere to hide. I can't numb it out with social media, because I am fasting from that. I can't write—the primary writing project I used to take refuge in has come to a practical standstill, and my "inspiration" for my own projects feels dry dry dry. There have been many times over the past weeks, in those times when I used to pull out my phone to write or to scroll, that I just sit there. I hug my knees and stare at nothing, because there is nothing that I have the energy or the heart to do.
Because I can no longer fill up the emptiness with noise, I have had to just sit with that emptiness. It hasn't been fun. But it has been good. It has given me space to just be, just exist. No profound thoughts to share, no online personas to compare myself with, no "likes" to count. Just me and the silence.
But it hasn't all been silence, of course—I do have a three-year-old and a one-year-old, after all!
And there are two things that I have intentionally been adding to my life during this season. First, I have been waking up every morning before the kids so that I can read a little from the Psalms. This has been wonderful. I haven't had a regular devotional time since I left home for Bible School ... ironic, isn't it? It has helped bring an awareness of God into each day, and helps me to not grumpily start the day with a significantly-too-awake toddler in my face. The only downside has been realizing how messed up my relationship with sleep is—how that "five more minutes" of sleep in the morning feels like the holy grail, and yet I refuse to have the discipline to go to bed at a reasonable time in the evening. That has been a challenge, but I am starting to get to bed earlier, which has been helping me a lot.
Beyond needing more discipline in the area of sleep, the big thing that I have been exploring during my time in the Psalms so far is the question of what I rely on. Again and again the Psalms speak about trusting in God—that he is our rock and our refuge and our deliverer. But I can't help wondering what that practically looks like, in my day to day life. I know what it looks like to rely on social media, what it looks like to rely on human affirmation, and my own achievements, and five more minutes of sleep. But what does it look like to truly rely on God? That is a question that I am still exploring.
The second thing that I have been doing is more directly related to my Lenten fast. Whenever I wish I could scroll social media, and I feel up for it, I instead try to connect with people in a more personal way. I send a message to someone who has been on my mind lately, I pray for them, I write a letter, give them a call, or try to invite them over. Through doing this, I am trying to combat my feelings of loneliness and isolation by building meaningful relationships. I am trying to shift my perspective from a focus on myself to a focus on how I can bless and encourage others. I am trying to nurture a thankfulness for the relationships that I do have.
As Lent has progressed and spring has arrived, it has been wonderful to realize that the sun is shining a bit more, literally and figuratively. I've started writing a bit again. I am finding myself more thankful for my children, and my husband, and the life that I have. The progress feels very slow sometimes, but I know it's there. It has been a hard season, but I am learning to be thankful for all of the ways that I have been growing through it.
Showing posts with label Lent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lent. Show all posts
Saturday, 24 March 2018
Wednesday, 7 March 2018
El Roi: The God Who Sees Me
For Lent this year, our church put together a devotional focused on different names of Jesus. The members of our church were invited to submit a devotional, poem, art piece, or other original work to be a part of it. I wrote a devotional, and I thought I would share it here as well.
____
El Roi: The God Who Sees Me
Genesis 16 tells the story of how Hagar became pregnant with Ishmael, was mistreated by Sarai, and ran away into the wilderness. The angel of the Lord met her there and gave her a promise about her child. At the end of that encounter Hagar gave God the name, "The God who sees me". We might not expect God to see a rejected, runaway slave girl, but he did.
When we look at the life of Jesus, we see a beautiful picture of what it looks like when "the God who sees" walks on the earth. He sees the Samaritan woman (John 4), he sees the bleeding woman (Luke 8), he sees Zacchaeus (Luke 19), and the list could go on and on. Jesus saw and reached out to the outcasts, the unclean, the sinners, and all those who were rejected by society.
Today, our God is still the God who sees. He is the God who sees the marginalized, the oppressed, the forgotten. He is the God who sees everyone. He is the God who sees us. We all go through times and seasons when we feel very alone. Maybe it is because of a loss or traumatic event. Maybe it is because of mental or physical illness. Maybe it is from being a parent of young children or the caretaker for someone with special needs. Maybe it is something else. We may feel invisible, overlooked, ignored, forgotten. But God sees us. He reaches out to us in our wilderness, even as he reached out to Hagar so long ago.
As Jesus-followers, we are also called to be people who see. Seeing is hard. It means slowing down, looking away from the things that engross our attention and fill our busy lives, and instead starting to notice those who go unnoticed. Being like Jesus means seeing the homeless, the refugees, the victims of racism, abuse, and colonialism, the troubled youth on the street corner and the elderly person in palliative care, and all those in between who are rejected and forgotten by the world.
But seeing is not just about looking. True seeing leads to meaningful action. God provided for Hagar. Jesus stopped, and talked, and touched. If we are going to be like our Father Who Sees, then we need to be ready to do something about what we see.
Personal Reflection:
When was a time that you knew beyond a doubt that God sees you? What makes you feel seen?
A Challenge:
Today, try to "see". Slow down and notice the people you wouldn't usually notice. Then do something about what you see. Give a smile, a hug, a helping hand.
Father, thank you that you are the God who sees us. Thank you for being with us, even in the dark and challenging times when we feel alone and forgotten. Help us to be people who see and who show your love to a broken and hurting world. Amen.
____
El Roi: The God Who Sees Me
Genesis 16 tells the story of how Hagar became pregnant with Ishmael, was mistreated by Sarai, and ran away into the wilderness. The angel of the Lord met her there and gave her a promise about her child. At the end of that encounter Hagar gave God the name, "The God who sees me". We might not expect God to see a rejected, runaway slave girl, but he did.
When we look at the life of Jesus, we see a beautiful picture of what it looks like when "the God who sees" walks on the earth. He sees the Samaritan woman (John 4), he sees the bleeding woman (Luke 8), he sees Zacchaeus (Luke 19), and the list could go on and on. Jesus saw and reached out to the outcasts, the unclean, the sinners, and all those who were rejected by society.
Today, our God is still the God who sees. He is the God who sees the marginalized, the oppressed, the forgotten. He is the God who sees everyone. He is the God who sees us. We all go through times and seasons when we feel very alone. Maybe it is because of a loss or traumatic event. Maybe it is because of mental or physical illness. Maybe it is from being a parent of young children or the caretaker for someone with special needs. Maybe it is something else. We may feel invisible, overlooked, ignored, forgotten. But God sees us. He reaches out to us in our wilderness, even as he reached out to Hagar so long ago.
As Jesus-followers, we are also called to be people who see. Seeing is hard. It means slowing down, looking away from the things that engross our attention and fill our busy lives, and instead starting to notice those who go unnoticed. Being like Jesus means seeing the homeless, the refugees, the victims of racism, abuse, and colonialism, the troubled youth on the street corner and the elderly person in palliative care, and all those in between who are rejected and forgotten by the world.
But seeing is not just about looking. True seeing leads to meaningful action. God provided for Hagar. Jesus stopped, and talked, and touched. If we are going to be like our Father Who Sees, then we need to be ready to do something about what we see.
Personal Reflection:
When was a time that you knew beyond a doubt that God sees you? What makes you feel seen?
A Challenge:
Today, try to "see". Slow down and notice the people you wouldn't usually notice. Then do something about what you see. Give a smile, a hug, a helping hand.
Father, thank you that you are the God who sees us. Thank you for being with us, even in the dark and challenging times when we feel alone and forgotten. Help us to be people who see and who show your love to a broken and hurting world. Amen.
Friday, 20 February 2015
Lent and Random Musings
Lent started this week. Lent is the season leading up to Easter when many Christians fast or give up something in their life. I've given up something for Lent a couple times before - one year I gave up Facebook, and another year I gave up having crushes on boys. (That happened to be the same spring that I met Jesse... yeah... that went really well...)
So as Lent approached this year, I wondered If I should give up something. That thought lasted for about 1.5 seconds, and was followed by "Yeah, no". With the full time job of caring for a newborn, plus working 10 hours a week tutoring, the thought of having something else to think about every day just seemed like too much. However, as I thought some more, my attention was drawn to something that I have recently been trying to incorporate into my life. So in a way I am ADDING something to my life for Lent... and the more I thought about that, I also realized that there is something I am trying to give up. Not just for Lent, but for good.
The basic idea is that I am trying to find a sense of balance in my life, even though there is a baby who wants my attention every waking minute (and most of the sleeping minutes too!). After the first few weeks of being a new mom, I began to realize that I will have to be very intentional about taking care of myself and doing things that I enjoy and find refreshing. Thinking about this, I came up with 4 categories: my body, my mind, my heart, and being creative. Taking care of my body includes things like getting outside for a walk, that workout routine that I AM going to start... someday..., having a nap, and making sure that I eat well. (A surprisingly difficult task - see the last post for an example!) Engaging my mind is important to me, especially now that I have finished college. I want to continue learning and growing. "Feeding my heart" is the phrase I chose for the emotional/spiritual part of my life. I realize that those aren't necessarily connected for everyone, but they are for me. This includes spiritual disciplines like prayer, journaling, and Bible reading, well as things that uplift me, like playing music and spending time with a good friend. I included being creative as its own category because I find great joy and fulfillment in things like writing, trying new recipes, drawing, crocheting, etc. And I realize that these categories are rather artificial, with lots of overlap (for example, going for a walk does wonders for my emotional and spiritual health, as well as my physical health).
Now, before you make a comment on how that all sounds very overwhelming, it's important to know two things - these are things that I love, and that I spent a significant amount of time doing pre-baby; but more importantly, the idea is to do ONE thing from each category every day.
I still haven't managed it.
But that's not really the point. The point is to be intentional about caring for myself, as well as caring for the little human that God has given me. And this leads to what I am trying to give up - I want to give up being hard on myself, trying to be perfect. At the end of a long day of feedings, burpings, changings, spit up on the floor, and poop on my pants, if all I've managed to do for myself is get out for a walk, that's OK. There's always tomorrow. And the next day. But what I don't want to happen is for months to go by before I realize that I haven't been taking care of myself - or, even worse, to only realize it once I crash, physically or emotionally.
Will you join me, this Lent, in the challenge of caring for yourself? And the challenge of being ok with not being perfect?
So as Lent approached this year, I wondered If I should give up something. That thought lasted for about 1.5 seconds, and was followed by "Yeah, no". With the full time job of caring for a newborn, plus working 10 hours a week tutoring, the thought of having something else to think about every day just seemed like too much. However, as I thought some more, my attention was drawn to something that I have recently been trying to incorporate into my life. So in a way I am ADDING something to my life for Lent... and the more I thought about that, I also realized that there is something I am trying to give up. Not just for Lent, but for good.
The basic idea is that I am trying to find a sense of balance in my life, even though there is a baby who wants my attention every waking minute (and most of the sleeping minutes too!). After the first few weeks of being a new mom, I began to realize that I will have to be very intentional about taking care of myself and doing things that I enjoy and find refreshing. Thinking about this, I came up with 4 categories: my body, my mind, my heart, and being creative. Taking care of my body includes things like getting outside for a walk, that workout routine that I AM going to start... someday..., having a nap, and making sure that I eat well. (A surprisingly difficult task - see the last post for an example!) Engaging my mind is important to me, especially now that I have finished college. I want to continue learning and growing. "Feeding my heart" is the phrase I chose for the emotional/spiritual part of my life. I realize that those aren't necessarily connected for everyone, but they are for me. This includes spiritual disciplines like prayer, journaling, and Bible reading, well as things that uplift me, like playing music and spending time with a good friend. I included being creative as its own category because I find great joy and fulfillment in things like writing, trying new recipes, drawing, crocheting, etc. And I realize that these categories are rather artificial, with lots of overlap (for example, going for a walk does wonders for my emotional and spiritual health, as well as my physical health).
Now, before you make a comment on how that all sounds very overwhelming, it's important to know two things - these are things that I love, and that I spent a significant amount of time doing pre-baby; but more importantly, the idea is to do ONE thing from each category every day.
I still haven't managed it.
But that's not really the point. The point is to be intentional about caring for myself, as well as caring for the little human that God has given me. And this leads to what I am trying to give up - I want to give up being hard on myself, trying to be perfect. At the end of a long day of feedings, burpings, changings, spit up on the floor, and poop on my pants, if all I've managed to do for myself is get out for a walk, that's OK. There's always tomorrow. And the next day. But what I don't want to happen is for months to go by before I realize that I haven't been taking care of myself - or, even worse, to only realize it once I crash, physically or emotionally.
Will you join me, this Lent, in the challenge of caring for yourself? And the challenge of being ok with not being perfect?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)