Taking Action

It was not a pretty week last week. Well, I was not very pretty last week. The line up of tasks, responsibilities, and needs crowded against the counter like mad shoppers on black Friday, jostling and tugging, refusing to queue up or take a number for service.  Then my computer, which has been suffering maladies for the past three months, briefly sank into a coma. It felt like my partner against the mad onslaught threatened to leave me completely defenseless.

At least that’s how it all felt.

In the moments of computer lucidity, I shot off an email asking for prayers for encouragement and strength and wisdom and anything else my friends could think of.

My computer popped a few aspirin and came back to work. The day proceeded and I checked off a couple of items on the “to do “ list. But my heart still sat heavy and I couldn’t seem to lift my gaze from my own feet. That evening I allowed a series of events to compound my despondency until my own discomfort impelled me to take personal inventory, admit my part, choose willingness to have God remove those character defects, and take the action to do so.

The next morning, Psalm 16 greeted me and the last verse spoke directly to me: “You show me the path of life; In your presence there is fullness of joy; In your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” I have to take action. I have to walk the path. I have to accept and live into that fullness of joy. I have to take from that right hand, or grasp that hand for comfort and direction.

An unsettling image came to mind. It was the image of a stubborn, selfish child in the playground, sitting on the outside of the circle, watching everyone else have fun while choosing to wallow in self-pity. It wasn’t a pretty image. It’s certainly not how I’d want others to see me.

Clearly an attitude change was in order. Not just an attitude change about my view of circumstances, but an attitude change about my posture toward God and God’s promises and gifts.  There is a path of life. But standing at the edge and waiting for some miracle is not the same as stepping onto that path and walking into the miracle. I believe that there is fullness of joy in God. But I have to choose to live into that joy and extravagant grace. I have to lean into the wind of it for propulsion. And the hand full of pleasures (the Common English Bible translates, “Beautiful things are always in your right hand.”) invites me to take and hold.

I can’t say for certain what made the difference that day, and the days that have followed: prayers for strength and encouragement offered up by friends and loved ones, my attitude change, or a renewed understanding and willingness to take action with God. But I can attest to renewed strength and joy over the last few days. I can also affirm, based on experienced, that God works with us as much as for us.

Magnanimity and Restraint

Help each one of us, gracious Father, to live in such magnanimity and restraint that the Head of the Church may never have cause to say to any one of us, "This is my body, broken by you."

Prayer from China

From the Vespers Office for Friday, First Week of Advent
The Divine Hours: Prayers for Autumn and Wintertime

I first came upon this prayer a year ago, and was grateful to be reminded of it again this past Advent. The word magnanimity intrigues me. The Latin translation, according to my print version of the American Heritage dictionary, is great-souled. Other definitions include noble of mind and heart and generous in forgiving.

What a beautiful phrase, great-souled.

Since returning from Congo, life has flooded forth with issues, concerns, worries, conversations, hard questions, sad admissions. It's life. But it's been life in emotional high gear. And when I'm living in emotional high gear, I leave restraint and magnanimity standing alone at the bus stop.

Much of the last number of weeks has revolved around my 88-year-old father. He had decided quite suddenly, or so it seemed to my sister and me, to move from his apartment to a senior living facility--the very one he and Mom had lived in during the last two years of her life. So on the day after Thanksgiving, we, along with my brother-in-law, nephews, daughter, and a friend, moved Dad. I admit, preparing for the move I was not very great souled nor was I restrained. My energies were focused on cleaning out files and emptying drawers to lighten the load for moving day.

The move went smoothly and quickly, and by the very next day, Dad's new apartment looked cozy and settled.

And here is where God reminded me to strive towards magnanimity and restraint. And continues to remind me.

My dad, bumping along through a move that unsettled and confused him, even though he initiated it, was grateful and gracious. He has every reason to be angry. He knows that confusion and loss of memory are frequent visitors. In the few months since this move he has chosen and been forced to relinquish ever more of his responsibilities and freedoms. Most recently, he has had to give up driving his own car.

He gets tangled in the threads of new information. Confuses days and times. And he still misses his wife, my mother, who died two years ago. But he is magnanimous, restrained, and grateful. 

So many times over the last few years, as Mom's health failed, as my brother-in-law say his parents decline in health, as friends have cared for ailing parents, I've wondered, "Why, God? Why not spare these dear people? These are people who have followed you, lived lives worthy of your kingdom, been faithful in their walk of faith, and responsive to the needs of others. Why do you allow them to linger when they would prefer to cross over?"