Reflecting these weeks on “holding on and letting go” as part of Lenten devotionals, I notice yet again my urge to control everything.
Even in writing about choosing a personal focus for Lent, my journal records my unwillingness to let go — all of my Lent ideas involve holding on, working harder, trying again, pushing and forcing myself to do what I think is good. Holding on to everything with tight fists. There may be times for this kind of tenacity. After re-reading my brainstormed list, though, I realize the most important thing I could concentrate on this Lent is letting go.
Now I’m practicing. I’m letting go of expectations of perfection in my work and study. I’m letting go of judgement of myself when I don’t exercise and eat as well as I know I should. I’m letting go of trying to fix everything and of taking on responsibilities that are not really mine. I’m letting go of legalism, perfectionism, and criticism, and beginning to see what remains that I need to hold on to.
A friend shared his experience of how he holds on. As a Muslim, he follows the tradition of praying five times a day. These moments become daily markers of time and space for the essential. A reminder of what he needs to let go and what he needs to hold on to. Hearing his experience, I recognize a need for these reminders myself.
One step further. In addition to practicing letting go, I’ve started to stop at moments throughout the day (thanks to the multiple alarms on my phone to alert me!) to remember and pray. Everything else seems to slide into place and I feel centred again. I remind myself too, like my friend says, that it’s not about legalism. If I miss a time, I “jump up” to the next, knowing that I am free in God these moments are a gift, not an obligation.
Lent moves on another week and I keep trying to hold on, let go, and continue the journey.
Last week Greg Boyd spoke at Park View Mennonite Church in Harrisonburg, about his book The Myth of a Christian Nation. His main idea was that there is the kingdom of the world, and the kingdom of God and that they are different. You can tell because the kingdom of God on earth looks like Jesus. So if you ever want to know if something world kingdom or God kingdom, just check whether it looks like Jesus or not.
we follow in helping one another, including stories, roles, and narratives as depicted in the film. In fact, he uses the term “theatre” as a metaphor for the patterns of human interaction that we depend upon to keep functioning socially. Mark’s use of these narratives even in his world that usually doesn’t follow them pushes him up in social status and admiration of others. Awareness of these narratives and their emotional impact can empower us to help and be helped and to avoid causing hurt through our helping attempts.
What do you need most in your life? What would you do to make sure that need is met? Would you continue to go after your need even if you thought it might cause conflict?
Recent Comments