Sometimes a tired feeling comes after a long day of hard
labor, or of some kind of exertion. Last week I found myself at one of those
moments on Wednesday night. Jen and I had offered ashes at the Starbucks, while
Maggie and Nina were in the church parking lot. Then we had a noon time
service, and an evening service. In the midst of this there had been lots of
conversation and planning. When I finally got home, I was so wiped out that I
did not even think about writing a Pastor’s Note for the Thursday email. Of
course, a pre-thought out remedy might have been getting it written earlier in
the week, but Monday and Tuesday were also chockfull of meetings and
activities.
Sometimes a tired feeling comes from trying to manage too
much anxiety and too many emotions. I don’t know if you have ever felt as
though your “boat is riding low.” It’s a wonderful image given to me several
years ago by a friend and teacher. When life is going smoothly, I can sit in my
little boat skimming over the top of the water, riding high over all the
possible obstacles sitting enough under the surface that my boat and I don’t
encounter them. In fact, I may not even realize they are underneath me. Then
come the days when, either because I’m tired or ill or whatnot, my boat is
riding a bit low in the water. Instead of blithely floating over the obstacles,
my boat and I keep bumping into them, rocking us, throwing us off course. It
can be hard to recover a smooth course.
I realized that my tiredness was a bit of both. I needed
rest, but I also needed to face the obstacles that were rocking my boat, and
they weren’t all underneath the water. They were within me. I had neglected
some very basic tenets. When I had an issue with someone else, I had been
putting off going towards them to talk it through; when I learned that someone
had an issue with me, I did not go straight to them to work it out. I allowed
the untold stories to remain untold, so of course other stories vied to be
heard. That is not healthy; it is not holy. It’s not what Jesus taught. When he
heard the disciples mumbling, he asked them directly what they were talking
about. He approached the Pharisees and scribes with the same directness. None
of them may have liked what he said, but they were not left guessing.
So I am going to work at doing this better. If I have
something to say, I will try to say it—though not without having thought it
through and praying about it because not
everything I think I need to say needs to be said, at least not in the way that
often comes first to mind. If you have something to say about me, then come say
it to me, not to others—though first think and pray about it. Ask a question. I
will ask questions. And always put your name with what you want to say. There
is little that is as corrosive as anonymous words.
This is more than my Lenten discipline, but Lent is a good
time to start with a renewed practice. Perhaps in time I will grow bit by bit
into the fullness of the measure of the stature of Christ.
Matthew 5:23-24
“So
when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother
or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and
go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your
gift.”
