The cell is in my hand, but the tension is moving up my arm. The voice on the other end of the line is cold. Words are being spent carefully. No accusations. Just no more – no more of anything.
I hang up and sit frozen at my desk. I have offended not so much by a single action as by my entire being. I am flawed. My friend recognizes it and is tired of dealing with my same old character defects.
My friend has said that I am a “push-pull” kind of person. Come here when I need you. No where to be found when I don’t.
I hear, “You’re self-centered.” I hear, “You’re a user.” My friend doesn’t say it, but I hear it all the same.
In the past, I’ve tried to defend. List all the times I have helped. List all the times I have done more than my share.
But this time, I can’t defend because there is no case to defend against. It is simple: my friend’s patience and tolerance are gone.
I am cold, very cold. The day is at twilight and I am lonely, very lonely.
I fear that there are no more chances at redemption. This may have been my last.
But I will try again to prove myself worthy. I will wait a few days. Send a text message asking for forgiveness. In the meantime, I will try to be different. Be more aware. Listen more carefully. Think before I speak. Maybe not speak at all.
Perhaps my friend’s heart will melt. But I think only after I have exerted some effort and only after some time has passed.
I understand. I do the same. I will forgive, but only after you concede to my demands. Only after I have punished you with my silence. Only after you have changed. Only after you are worthy.
The problem is I never stay worthy and you never stay worthy.
The twilight turns to darkness and hopelessness overwhelms me. But only until the phone rings again.
My friend wants to resume the conversation. The voice is kind and loving.
And when I hear it, I remember that my ultimate redemption does not depend on my worthiness but on His Love. For my God is not a God of last chances, but of new beginnings and this is the season for Resurrections.
Stewardship Challenge: This Easter season steward your attitude. Realize that our hope is not in our efforts but in His Love. Now pray for the grace to be filled with hope.
Stewardship Prayer: Lord, we are not worthy, but only say the Loving Word and we are healed.
Varied Graces is a regular column by Letty Lanza of the Office of Stewardship and Communications. Email her at llanza@dioceseofbmt.org
3-28-08 - Varied Graces: Sinking and rising
I have a sinking feeling. The earth around me feels like quicksand. As I open the door to my office I know I want to be anywhere but here.
We’re getting ready for another big event. We’ve done it before, but I’m still apprehensive. Lots of details and I’m sure to miss something.
A young friend calls. She is ending a relationship, one that she thought would end in marriage. I listen for several moments.
My sinking feeling is still there.
I go through my morning mail. A late Easter card from an old friend back home. She’s been demoted from her job of more than 10 years. Restructuring and her lack of certain skills the cause.
I sit with my own feelings for a moment. The phone call and card have helped me to give a name to my anxiety. I am afraid – afraid of failing. Something might go wrong and I would look the fool.
I look up from my mail to my wall of crosses – silver ones and blue ones, stone and wood. Pieces of art. But in the middle an old fashion crucifix. A Jesus hung with nails betrayed by friends, forsaken by friends. A man once able to draw an adoring crowd of five thousand is now unable to rally support for His mission. The crucifix – a reminder of a ministry gone south.
So there He is nailed to the cross forever and nailed to my wall for now. They tell me He was like us in all things except sin. So I wonder if in His humanity he occasionally forgot the details. Certainly He was like us in failure.
There are those who find hope in the Easter Story. They find it in the empty tomb, in the hosannas, in the Resurrection. I find hope in Easter too. But I find it in the “ignominious” cross.
I first heard that word when I was in third grade. It was part of the prayers for the weekly Friday Stations. Fascinated, I looked it up and learned it meant “embarrassing” like my trying to sing “Hark the Herald” solo for the talent show the previous Christmas. So Jesus knew what it felt like to be a fool! It made my day those many decades ago.
Now again He made my day. Some go to the catechism for explanations of salvation. They read St. Paul or Thomas Aquanis or John Paul. They sit in heated debates with those of other Christian faiths. I think my way is simpler.
I look at the cross and think, “Here is a Man who experienced failed relationships and failed missions. Here is a Man who understands. Here is a God who saves me not only from sin but from myself.”
I think I’m rising up from that sinking place.
Stewardship Challenge: For most of us, most days are a mixture of small successes and small failures. We often feel our talents are less than what they should be so why offer them. For the next week, keep a journal of those things that you considered failures and those that you considered successes each day. At the end of the week, see if you’re perspective has changed. Did the tasteless meal that you made on Monday turn out to be better as leftovers on Tuesdays? Were you asked to leave one job only to be offered a better one? Did the friend who failed to call, send flowers later? But if your failures still look the same, can you take heart in the fact that you have a God who understands?
Stewardship Reflection: For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses but one who has similarly been tested in every way yet without sin. So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.” Hebrews 4:15-16
Varied Graces is a regular column by Letty Lanza of the Office of Stewardship and Communications. Email her at llanza@dioceseofbmt.org
3-14-08 - Varied Graces: While it was still dark
It’s a gray morning. A slight spring drizzle dampens the windshield of my car. A pain killer taken to numb a root canal has numbed my spirit instead.
It’s been another long Lent. This one filled with personal change. My 91-year-old mother has moved out of our house and into a retirement community.
Now when I leave for work, I leave behind only our dogs. And this morning, even they seem sullen. They look at the drizzle and the swampy backyard and know, I suppose, that they will be house bound. When I said good bye, they failed to do their parting tail wags. It’s been a long Lent for them too.
Tasks have piled up at work. Shorter work days to make arrangements for my mother’s health and then her move to a new home have taken their toll. Yesterday’s absence to take care of “put offed” dental work has added to the mess. Two new projects will need my immediate attention. I have no idea how I will catch up.
I drive past the coffee shop. No time for my usual bagel and iced hazelnut. I shut off the wipers. The drizzle has stopped but the dark clouds remain.
One dear friend is in the hospital. Two are facing character assassinations brought on by “trying to do the right thing.” They’ve been the victims of petty gossip. Another friend is dealing with an ailing grandmother. The concerns of all four fill my thoughts. It’s been a long Lent for them too. I want to make time for a hospital visit, a long lunch and a telephone chat. But I doubt the possibility.
My soul yearns for Easter. For incense and Paschal candles. For sweet yellow breads and pastel colored eggs. For bits of parsley and the scent of fennel.
I fret. I worry. I plan. I fear. I want Lent to end.
Now I know this should be a time of prayer. But for me it is a time of anxiety and the garden scene is yet to come. Lent, I think, should be about 10 days shorter.
I have come so that you might have Life and have it abundantly.
A small piece of sun nods to me. I pass yards filled with magnolia blossoms and blooming azaleas. And I remember that my own wisteria hinted of buds this morning.
My cell signals a text message has been received. It’s a reminder from my associate. She sends it to several of her friends weekly. It’s Tuesday, I love you. The day is still gray, but manageable.
There are those among us who can patiently wait for a heaven – a spiritual hereafter filled with angels and serenity and light. But I need a hint of the kingdom now. I need a Jesus who lives and is available to me while my life is still dark. I need One who comes not only in the name of the Lord, but also comes in the darkness of dawn.
However, if wisterias and loving text messages are budding, can a full blown Easter and Resurrection be far behind?
Stewardship Challenge: Be a good steward of today. Let the love of the resurrected Christ grow and bloom in you even on the last of winter days.
Stewardship Reflection: “On the first day of the week, Mary of Magdala came to the tomb early in the morning, while it was still dark and saw that the tomb was empty.” John 20:1
Varied Graces is a regular column by Letty Lanza of the Office of Stewardship and Communications. Email her at llanza@dioceseofbmt.org
2-22-08 - Varied Graces: The Daughter of Job
I need to wash my hair this morning. Now that may not seem like a big deal, but at this moment in time it’s a crisis. I was up late working on work I should have been working on weeks ago, but weeks ago I was working on stuff that should have been worked on weeks before. Okay it’s a tough sentence to follow, but as I said before I was up late working on work I should have – well, you get the idea. Anyway, my energy level is at zero. Also my laptop keeps eating letters because I accidently touch the Ins button with the palm of my hand. (I am not accustomed to writing on my home laptop.) Now I have no idea what Ins stands for. (Excuse me, I should have written “I have no idea for what Ins stands” to prevent ending my sentence with a preposition. Although, that sentence seems awkward.) If Ins stands for insert then why does it keep taking letters out? Anyway, I am having a tough time using the keyboard. Crisis number 2. I’ve also noticed I am using a number of parentheses. I am sure this is making it difficult for you to follow my train of thought. But I need to do that to indicate to you that I have diverted from the original idea. I keep diverting from my original idea because I was up late working on work I should have been working on weeks ago. Did I already mention that? Crisis number 3: short term memory loss. I also need to have my nails done. I’ve broken or lost three of the fake ones and the others are way too long which probably adds to typing problems. Crisis number 4 is the need to get my nails done. And, maybe I should add crisis number 5 if we count the long nails also as a separate typing problem. You know separate from the Ins deal which really is affected by the palm of my hand not the nails. I know I mentioned the Ins deal two paragraphs ago because I just went back and read it. By now you’re probably wondering how I am going to work the need to wash my hair into a column on Stewardship. Me too. Crisis number 6! I say me too because I find that most of the time when I write these columns, I have no idea where I’m going but then suddenly the Holy Spirit takes over and a solution arrives. (Although most of the time, He doesn’t write in run on sentences.) Not having enough energy to wash my hair is probably the result of assuming more care giving for an aging and ill mother during my busiest time at work. But it’s probably even more than that. Get a little cabin fever and everything becomes a crisis. Now there are lots of things others can do for you. And they have. Friends have made dinner and run errands. My staff has assumed some of my work responsibilities. But the hair crisis? That seems to be a solo job. Or has it been? I’m feeling a little better. I wonder if I’m out of conditioner. Stewardship Challenge: Sometimes life clutters up and you start to feel like Job. One problem leads to another and the world looks dark. You lose your perspective and even the smallest task becomes a crisis. Sometimes, during those times, we need to steward our schedules to allow time for ourselves to rest and recoup. And sometimes, during those times, the Holy Spirit breaks through the darkness with Grace and we begin to see the world in a lighter way. Stewardship Prayer: Holy Spirit, grant me the perspective to the see the light side of life even in the darkest days. Be my Partner in Grace.
Varied Graces is a regular column by Letty Lanza of the Office of Stewardship and Communications. Email her at llanza@dioceseofbmt.org
