If I just scroll one more length of my glowing screen, something, anything may jump out and make me feel better.
Avoidance.
If I just run back to bed, throw the covers over my head and pretend this is not happening, then maybe I might feel okay.
Hide,
hide.
Shift,
run.
If I just shout a little louder, stamp my feet with more force and self sabotage my way towards pushing those closest away…
Maybe then I might find the space I need.
What do you revert to, when you are faced with trials?
Do you struggle with mystery, keeping the unknown at a safe distance, controlling every detail or swinging to the extreme of hiding away unable to face the raw truth?
The walk of lent is a mysteriously severe one. John the Baptist tells us that “He must increase but I must decrease”. For Him to increase we have to be okay with the mysterious walk.
The unknown.
“When we were children most of us were good friends with mystery. The world was full of it and we loved it. Then as we grew older we slowly accepted the indoctrination that mystery exists only to be solved. For many of us, mystery became an adversary; unknowing became a weakness. The contemplative spiritual life is an ongoing reversal of this adjustment. It is a slow and sometimes painful process of becoming “as little children” again, in which we first make friends with mystery and finally fall in love again with it.” GERALD G. MAY
It is my son Maximus’ birthday on Friday, today whilst sliding down our family night play set, my sister was saying to him. “Maxi what do you want for your birthday?”, every Christmas, Birthday to date, he has listed off a long reel of toys, that are his absolute obsession. Tonight he replied “Surprise me Jenna, surprise.”
He is learning to delight in the unknown, he’s is shifting from a demanding toddler, to a little man who loves to dance with delight. Tonight as we got ready to sing and blow out his birthday cake, he whispered to me “Is it time for my celebration Mum, is it time?”
My son is delighting in the mysteries of life.
He is learning to love the expectancy of the unknown.
As life throws its hard hitting tomato’s in our face, we start to lose the wonder of the unknown and we end up becoming adults who control and contrive every part of our lives, to stop any potential of being let down or disappointed.
Enter faith.
Lent is a mysterious walk.
Easter, is not a celebration for the faint hearted.
As we step towards the utter depravity of Good Friday, we have sit in the unknown in between of Easter Saturday, with our ash cloth and bloodied remnants, being assured in the faith step that Easter Sunday brings the brilliance of resurrected life.
The avoidance dance.
The control concoction.
The surprised expectancy.
What position do we want to place ourselves in this Easter?
Day 30: my avoidance of hard conversations is catching up with me.
The avoidance dance of scrolling – just scrolling – hoping something will be inspirational or amazing or whatever – I know that too well. Or just withdrawing, getting busy… it is not an easy place to sit with the unknown and mysterious – especially in the face of deep pain and hardship. I want to be able to give the answers, but so often mind myself just silent – unable even to find the words.
I actually ran back to bed one morning this week and threw the covers over my head. The mystery of faith to walk forward in the midst of unknowing. It is a brave one.
Love you Esther.