Lent: Prayerful and Intentional

Leap day...

A day that is unexpected, unplanned, usual.

Twenty-eight days most years.

Then, every fourth year, another day greets us at the end of February.

Twenty four hours..

Pure gift.

Interrupted...

Disrupted...

In the best sense of those words.

What will you do with this one precious day?

This gift received only every four years?

Will you enter into it as usual?

Or will you leap into it?

Will you have the same meals, same routines?

Or will you let your spirit leap in new ways?

Will you go about this as though the calendar could read February 28th or March 1?

Or maybe we can leap around, dance around, and sing aloud?

Maybe this leap day will interrupt us

Disrupt us..

in the best ways.

That might open us to the holy, sacred leaping in our midst even here and now.

Lent prayerful and intentional

There is a disruption when life is interrupted.  We have carefully made plans...

Like posting to my blog everyday.

Like always being joyful this Lent.

I wanted to make it through Lent following my best laid plans...

Unlike those New Years Resolutions.

Then life interrupts.

Life disrupts.

Like takes an unplanned exit ramp.

What then??

What happens when my plans go sideways...

without even asking permission?

What happens when my to-do lists gets added to..

without even asking permission?

What happens when my neat, tidy expectations are suddenly askew,

again...without asking permission?

What then?

O God...

O right, Lent isn't about me.

Lent isn't some marathon I run totally reliant on the unholy Trinity of,

Me...Myself...and I

Lent is about God.

Relying on God.

Totally,

Fully,

Even when our plans are interrupted and disrupted...

Or especially when interrupted and disrupted.

Then, maybe I might find a new understand of Lent.

Lent 10: prayerful and intentional

“Earth's crammed with heaven, 

And every common bush afire with God, 

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round and pluck blackberries.” ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Can God really be found in my bowl of bran flakes?

Is God really woven into the words of that person who I always roll my eyes at?

Do I really need to take off my shoes as though every where I stand has an "X" that marks the sacred spot where God is?

Can I live with God here and now?

Those questions need more than simple responses, they can demand our

energy

thoughtfulness

prayerful-ness

pleadful-ness

playful-ness

Because at some point...after we let go of the illusion that we are fully in control and in charge.

After we let go of the need to understand everything.

After we let go of my way or the highway...

There is a stunned silence that can be filled best with our laughing.

Our outburst of joy.

Our cup-over-flowing

Side aching

Tear streaming down our cheek

Can't catch our breath

Joy.

That kind of joy found in the midst of here.

That kind of joy is what might just save and change our life.

Lent 9: prayerful and intentional

Here in this place new light is streaming,

now is the darkness vanished away;

see in this space our fears and our dreamings

brought here to you in the light of this day.

Gather us in, the lost and forsaken,

gather us in, the blind and the lame;

call to us now, and we shall awaken,

we shall arise at the sound of our name.~ Gather us in...Marty Haugen

Fears and dreamings come together

sometimes collide and crash together

sometimes culminate together

sometimes conspire together in the here and now.

What fears are flying around in your life here and now?

What dreams are dancing in your life here and now?

Which one talks the lead?

Author Elizabeth Gilbert says fear can be good.

Science tells us that fear activates the part of our brain where creativity also originates.

But too often we let fear right in the front seat AND pick the radio station.

Too often we let fear cloud the future, demanding that everything be perfectly sorted out before we dare to dive in.

Can the light of Christ's presence, which is with us and for us, shine on our fears?

Can we let our lost-ness or forsaken-ness or blindness and lameness all be drenched, soaked, saturated and doused with the here-ness of God?

That might be what saves our life each minute this glorious day God has made.

Lent: prayerful and intentional

Ok.  Fine.  I get.  God is here.

Can we move on now?

Let's talk about what is new and next and more exciting.

Let's talk about what a celebrity did, a political candidate said, something else.

Talking about God is here, happening...come on, blog poster, think of another idea.

We crave the rush of the latest and greatest.

We splash in the shallow end, satisfied with tidbits and tweets.

We gorge on post after post.

But if we dive deeper into Here...into the messiness of it all.

That maybe I don't have my life as put together as neatly as I appear.

Maybe I don't prayer as much.

Maybe I get angry...frustrated...fearful...doubt-filled.

No...don't go there...just watch another cute cat video.

To dare to dive deeper into Here...right now it all of its beautiful, creative, chaotic, messiness...

Wait...

Is that God stirring and swirling and sloshing around still creating, still singing, still speaking?

Maybe, I can stay here for awhile.

Lent 7: prayerful and intentional

Wait...wasn't this the post for yesterday?
Wait...this isn't some bad pun on the movie Groundhog's Day is it?

Because if God was then and there.
Because if God can be confined to the past, it means I can hold God at a distance,
Like a history book,
Like a quaint idea,
Like a something that happened

If God is here, God is happening!
God is not confined or defined, as some relic in a museum.
God is loose, like a elephant escaped from the zoo.
God is loose, free to start rumbling around...
Even rearranging all the furniture of my life...
And I don't want that chair to be put there.

If God is here, God is happening!
Not past tense, but present tense.
Present...
Here...
Happening around you and me.
Happening in you and me.
Happening here..for you and me, with you and me.

Can we let our lives get caught up in the present tense, happening God?
That might just be the most prayerful, playful question we can ask this Lent.

Lent 6: prayerful and intentional

Really, here, in this place?
Can this day really be saturated, soaked, drenched, doused in the holy?
Can God really we woven into this minute...
This breath...
This second.

When the toast is burnt and my head hurts.
When I am interrupted right as I was about to have my most brilliant thought ever.
When I have all these things to do on my to-do list.

Here?
Now?
Doesn't God show up on Sundays along with the pastor (on the only day s/he works)?
Doesn't God wait around all week for us to sing and pray?
Isn't God just itching to hear that prayer of confession?

Because if God here...
That makes me squirm, shift uncomfortably...

Well, because of God is here...
That could change everything.