It is March 1st - I know this because since my operation a week ago Monday, I keep a note page for each day so I can track significant details. March 1st is important because it is the anniversary of my beginning ministry with the church I currently serve. That was back in 2009 - The First Sunday in Lent. This year March 1st is the First Day of Lent - Ash Wednesday.
I have confessed in previous posts to leaning more toward Advent than Lent. But this year I decided to give Lent my full attention - to see if I could be open to the spiritual lessons and growth for which this season is known. Of course my equation did not include spending the first part of Lent recovering from surgery.
Surprise!
And yet here I am on Ash Wednesday - away from all the traditions and tasks that have brought such meaning to my soul in the past. I love how the Sisters at St. Gertrude's taught me to fuse the reminder of mortality (Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return) with a reminder of the cosmos (From stardust you come, and to stardust you shall return). Nice. I will not be in church tonight fusing anything - another will lead worship.
So instead of doing what I have done for decades, I spent Ash Wednesday outdoors. I took myself for a gentle walk. I watched hawks soar and neighborhood dogs protect their property (the two black labs barking frantically at their fence calmed right down when they were told that they were "such good puppies" for protecting their back yard). I talked with several pets and smiled at a dozen strangers (all smiled back). I have lived here since 2009 and have never walked in my neighborhood. And when you take your time, there is much to see!
The sun felt so warm, reminding me that the origin of the word Lent is the word spring. It has been a cold and dark winter for so long...but spring always returns. Always.
My winter began in the summer of 2014. In the midst of a perfect storm of circumstances I required emergency surgery. It did not go well - either because the surgeon was minimally competent but having a very bad day, or less charitable reasons that I prefer not to explore. The aftermath was a quality of life that rated negative numbers on a ten point scale. I have been working with an extremely competent surgeon since June of last year, taking steps to be as healthy as possible in order to get this mess fixed. We had planned on doing the surgery possibly as early as Summer of '17. But circumstances changed dramatically and she decided the time for intervention was NOW.
I went into the procedure terrified, using my experience from 2014 as the template for my expectations. After scaring myself silly, I decided that the only thing I had control over was the lens through which I viewed this experience - and the fear lens was not getting me anywhere good. Instead, I picked up the grace lens and took a deep breath.
My fears did not totally subside, but I was able to relax and notice the web of love that was holding me. My team of doctors did an amazing job - fixing the unintended consequences of the previous surgery and giving me back my life. Today, a short ten days after surgery, I feel better than I have felt in years: Me 2.0
I plan to keep the grace lens in place for Lent - leaning into some of the spiritual disciplines that have always sustained me while actively looking through the lens of grace as I go through my day - and being open to the new that will emerge. I suspect that this Lenten journey will be very different from any previous one: Lent 2.0
I shared my vision of Me 2.0 with a dear colleague who had a very clever response: Runs much smoother. Fewer glitches and security breaches. Additional power and memory capacity. It will fly off the shelf!
...and if that is an accurate description of my reboot, I can't wait to see what Lent 2.0 is like!
With love, gratitude and grace for the journey,
Kim
No comments:
Post a Comment