Being the Beloved - A Monthly Blog from CFDM Northwest
By Rev. Mona Chicks, CFDM Northwest Co-Director
CFDM Blog – Feb 2023
Recently, a friend said to me as she entered what would be the last day of her husband’s life, “I don’t know any more how to pray.” The heartache expressed in that question – do I pray for him to live? Or do I pray for him to die? – resonated with me through all those times I haven’t been sure how to pray. My response to her, “with groanings too deep for words,” comes straight from Romans 8:26, and reminds us that our prayers need not have words attached. The Holy Spirit interprets our longing, our suffering, and our groaning on our behalf. In our suffering, we join the whole earth in that space of what can feel like incessant pain: a pandemic that feels like it will never end, untimely death and human atrocities happening daily across the globe and in our own cities, a planet which is slowly suffocating, the exhaustion of our overscheduled and overstimulated lives, personal pain from relationships, health struggles, or jobs. It’s all too much and we don’t know how to engage it, so we shut down and add more to the schedule in the hope that we can push past the pain. Until we can’t any more.
Later this month (Feb 22), we will enter into the church season of Lent – a time of acknowledgement of our humanity, our pain, a time of penitence and reflection. In the 40 days of Lent we commemorate Jesus’s time in the desert being tempted by Satan, immediately following his baptism. Maybe it’s no surprise that a high point in Jesus’s life was followed by what was likely his second-most difficult time. We frequently experience that kind of shock to the system – something fantastic happens, and then something really hard follows on its heels.
It’s no accident that Lent begins in the bleakest days of winter, but ends in the earliest days of spring. It’s a season of fallowness, of sending resources to our roots rather than to our tips. The outside may look barren, but truly the work that is happening is taking our roots deeper and broader so we have the strength to carry the fruit which is being prepped on our limbs and to build resilience for the storms which lie ahead. God is always at work in us, but we don’t always take the time to look for it or acknowledge the growth that is happening, especially when there is little or no fruit happening. But just as in our gardens, the work we do in these fallow times determines the quality of the fruit that will be harvested later.
I love the image of a winter of our souls. It reminds me that I don’t always have to be accomplishing things. I don’t always have to bear fruit. Even the earth takes a break from its flourishing so it can preserve precious energy for the work of going deeper. Lent is winter to me in a way – it’s a time I can focus my energy on going deeper with God, not worrying about the outcomes, but truly engaging in practices which guide me toward the One who is always at work in my soul, the One who is always seeking to catch my gaze. Lent allows me to take the time to stop, look, and listen.
In the depths of our souls, where our groanings are happening and our longings grow, God is at work. Are you paying attention?
What books, media, activities are nurturing your heart, soul, mind, strength in this season as we are loving God and our neighbor as ourselves? Post in the comments below or hop on over to our Facebook page and share with one another.