The antidote for this condition is known as Holy Week. At least it is for Jesus followers.
I always arrive at Holy Week feeling like I've let God down. I begin every 40 day Lenten observance with such grand expectations of pious, holy living – so crammed full of spiritual enlightenment and periods of praying like nobody's business, that I'm always doomed to failure.
By the time Good Friday rolls around I'm once again stumbling around in the darkness. I've so lost sight of the cross that the only way God can help me find it is by watching me trip over it, and gently smiling as I look up to catch my breath.
All God really wants is just for me to show up. I'm just supposed to let go of my spiritual expectations and see what happens.
There are a few things that have the unique ability to crack my heart wide open. Silly little things that penetrate the defenses and all the mechanisms of self-preservation that I employ. Little things that create a skosh more space around my heart in which to breathe and give thanks.
:: Harmonizing with Alison Krauss on I'll Fly Away {sometimes Ali and I sing this together in the car - she singing soprano, me singing alto - so loudly that people in other cars must wonder what's wrong with us!}
:: Remembering my grandmother's laugh.
:: Laying on the bed with Sammy, rubbing his belly and remembering where he came from and being thankful that he found his way to us.
Perhaps these little things that crack my heart wide open are simply manifestations of God in the world. Maybe that's what Holy Week is really all about - just showing up with defenses down. Showing up to see what God will do now.
I want to be present. I want to be here. With my heart cracked wide open.
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