She didn’t want to be there. At the church service at 7 pm on
a Wednesday night. I’m not sure why she chose this church service to protest.
Perhaps it was because her sister was reading scripture so all the attention
beforehand had been placed on her practicing out loud. Perhaps it was because
it was also Valentine’s Day and she had a party at school and way too much
candy after. Perhaps because she didn’t have any of her pals to sit with- 2
down with the flu- but whatever the reason, the meaning of Ash Wednesday was completely
lost on her 7 year old self.
Her mother on the other hand had been longing for this
service. Knowing the ways in which Lent had transformed her and healed her in
the past, she looked forward to the ashes that would mark the beginning of this
season.
Right before the service began, the 7 year old asked if she could sit
quietly in the hall with my phone until it was over. “No”, I said emphatically this time.
After the first song was sung, she walked over and asked again for my phone.
She was bored, she said. She had nothing to do, she said. I again refused and
told her she could sit quietly if she did not want to sing. As those around us
sung, “Be the center of our lives”, she whined some more and pulled on my
necklace at the same time. The necklace that was my grandmother’s. Nothing fancy,
but one my grandmother had placed in a glass jar of some of her beloved things,
that I had taken out and begun to wear just a few years early. The one that receives
at least one compliment each time I wear it. The frustrated daughter pulled,
the string snapped, and the beads began to roll everywhere. She began to
scramble to get them as I tried to gather the beads still on the string with
thoughts that I could fix this. The song continued, “You hold everything
together”, and the irony of the broken necklace and the words we sang swept
over me. It was all I could do at that moment not to weep. With one broken
necklace, I felt undone.
Because way too often, I am trying to hold everything
together myself. That person you respect that spoke those words diminishing your
worth, don’t let them see you cry. That schedule that has more things that can
ever possibly be completed, pretend it doesn’t. That thing that you struggle
with, that you still struggle with,
pretend you don’t.
Hold it all together. Yourself.
Sometimes that brings me security…just like my necklace.
Sometimes that brings me praise…just like my necklace. Sometimes that brings me
a sense of order…just like my necklace. But as those beads fell out of reach; the
control, security and affirmation I receive from desperately trying to hold all the pieces fell
with them. I was reminded of the peace that comes only from letting go.
So Lent. Thank you. There is much to lament in our world today. I am finding solace in this Lenten Blessing from the Missional Wisdom Foundation:
May the blessing of lament bring you rest, and may you find strength in knowing that God inhabits your sorrow.
Love,
Me.
P.S. And Sarah Bess…she shared the scripture beautifully.
