I haven’t written anything bloggy lately because I haven’t had anything to write. “Write about that!” God nudges me, so here we are. At zero.
It’s a difficult, scary, beautiful place to be. I deeply know this because I can look back at another February spent wrestling with heart-shattering agony. With silence. With Nothing. That year, a first-grade boy from our community died suddenly. Overcome with grief, I spent many subsequent hours sitting in the corner of my den in a large, overstuffed chair – a chair equipped with a poofy pillow, a flannel quilt, a nearby window, and even a twin companion chair. As I sat there that winter, sometimes I cried. Sometimes I stared at the wall. Sometimes I drank tea, or read a book, or called the beloved boy’s mother. Sometimes I fell asleep. Sometimes I talked to a pal sitting in the other chair. All the times, I prayed. And I learned.
As I slowly emerged from my deepest sorrow that spring, I realized that all the so-called “important” details of my mom-life (sports, housekeeping, etc.) had still been accomplished, but that I had added in some very powerful time every day to just BE. In Psalm 46:10, the LORD commands us: “Be still and know that I am God!”
So it’s okay if you and I sit in front of Him – in a chair or a car or a chapel – and feel nothing, say nothing, have nothing. In fact, I strongly suspect that He often prefers it.
May our Lent be holy.
Parish Catechetical Leader