Sunday, February 17, 2013
Days pass quickly, and it seems that I should have made pancakes last Tuesday. I forgot.
I love the idea of reflecting quietly on Ash Wednesday, as a way to prepare myself for Easter. But I wonder what that means, too. Thinking about stuff can immobilise me, as I wonder what I should think or feel. As I become self-conscious. And maybe ideas of religious orthodoxy are always better in theory. Or blogposts.
The second thief asks Jesus to remember him, when he's king. But I might be the oblivious one, crowd-pleasing till its too late.
Church makes me dwell on the hurts we deliver to each other and the brokenness that's slung across our shoulders handbag style. I wait for the spirit to heal, but I'm impatient for change. I make excuses about inviting people into this mess, but it's how they'll see glory.
I ask myself questions that have no clear answers and turn them round and over in my mind.
How do I answer childish statements that God is boring?
How do I calm my son's tantrum in the midst of leading playgroup, or teaching sunday school? Do I just stop doing it so the tantrums are more conveniently met?
How does God spark passion for him in people's hearts? In my heart?
Answers that work one day, mutate to inadequate the next and I can't build up a self that's trustworthy. I long to be enough.
Everyday he tells me of his unfailing, covenant, extravagent, forgiving, chesed love. It awakens the memory of yesterdays within me and I can be, today. Be content in the fragile, illusory answers and the ever-changing questions. Be listening for the death that brings resurrection.
Jesus, remember me, when you come into your Kingdom.