Tags
academic, change, children, emotional, faith, family, God, head, heart, Jesus, journey, joy, know, Lent, live, parenthood, prayer, sadness
A couple of weekends ago, my husband and I found ourselves kids-free, walking the local downtown area. As we strolled along, we observed other families – parents pushing strollers, parents supervising kids learning to ride their bicycles, parents pausing family walking for educational moments. Watching the other families brought back a flood of memories of those stages of our lives – the fond, endearing moments as well as those moments when we felt like we might crack. But what was not familiar was what we were experiencing that day: the children having plans of their own, making choices to be with friends over being with their parents.
My husband and I used to work with families at our church who were going through those very changes: the phase of life where the children’s primary influence shifts from parents to peers. It is a good and natural phase, but one we observed was much harder for parents than for the children. But teaching and knowing something is quite different from experiencing something – from watching your own children do the very thing you have taught other parents about. That moment is the clarity that comes from taking an academic subject and having it become a very real, emotional subject. Suddenly, I could see the future of the relationships with our children in a much more tangible way. And there was some sadness, some joy, and lots of somethings in between.
As we make our way past the halfway mark of Lent and we see the approaching journey of Holy Week, I have been thinking a lot about the learned experience of faith and the felt experience of faith. Often we Episcopalians are creatures of the mind – studying repentance and forgiveness, participating in liturgies that shape the penitential nature of Lent, and even talking to others to learn about their Lenten experiences. But knowing about Lent can be quite different from living Lent – facing all those things we preferred to keep in the “academic” box and instead having to move them into the “lived” box.
My prayer for you as your Lenten journey approaches the climax of Holy Week and Easter is that you let yourself feel all of it. My prayer is that you allow that much more vulnerable version of yourself to gather next to Jesus and keep walking forward – as the imperfect person you are, accompanied by the perfection of the Savior who makes this journey possible. I look forward to hearing how letting down those walls of self-protection and letting in the grace, love, and forgiveness of God shapes these last days of Lent. Know that I walk with you!
This month has been one of those months at church that has been super busy. Three out of four Saturdays have had events, and Sundays have been full too. That alone can be exhausting, as many of us have commiserated. But I was thinking about it today, and the truth is that all of the things we are doing are a big deal. I think that some of our exhaustion is not just because our weekends have been full, but that the things that have been filling our time are emotionally and spiritually significant.
Seeking and Serving 