Holy Week or Wholly Weak?
Well, the fun begins. Seven days, ten services, so many opportunities for grace, and what am I doing? That is a good question.
I usually have this grand spiritual scheme for Holy Week. I promise to pray fervently every day. I think that I will fast too. I attempt to avoid eye contact with the uber-cutie. I try to do some cardinal acts of mercy.
Instead, I camp out on my couch, watching Law and Order. I love Law and Order. I usually gain about two pounds from eating Easter candy. I run all around, doing errands, and fly into the church at the absolute last minute for the service heaving and gasping for breath. I am tired, stuffed and a little grouchy, actually. Perfect for Holy Week services.
I have such high expectations for myself this time of year. I really want to be holy and pious and inspirational. The only thing I am inspiring right now is a nap.
All my posturing, all my precious plans for spiritual enlightenment are tossed aside. I feel rushed. I feel frustrated. My expectations are so ridiculously high that I tumble off and stumble around in the dark, finally stubbing my toe at the foot of the cross.
I want to be sophisticated. I want to be proactive. I want to be completely logical and intellectual. Emotions are all well and good if I can limit them to only a small part of me. I want to be perfect. I know it is foolish, but I can try, right?
But God is not impressed with my sophistication. God just want me to show up sometimes. God wants me to come as I am. God wants my devotion, not my attempts at pious perfection.
Seven days, ten services, so much to do, I must make it holy and special and awesome. But Jesus asks: “Will you eat with me? Will you let me wash your feet? Will you listen to me? Will you pray with me? Will you stay awake with me? Will you walk with me to Calvary? Will you stay with me?”
So I will go. Who am I kidding? I will celebrate and preach and wash feet and sit and listen. I will show up. I will try to let go of my spiritual self expectations, and discover what spiritual delights the Lord has to share with me, if I will just come to him.
I usually have this grand spiritual scheme for Holy Week. I promise to pray fervently every day. I think that I will fast too. I attempt to avoid eye contact with the uber-cutie. I try to do some cardinal acts of mercy.
Instead, I camp out on my couch, watching Law and Order. I love Law and Order. I usually gain about two pounds from eating Easter candy. I run all around, doing errands, and fly into the church at the absolute last minute for the service heaving and gasping for breath. I am tired, stuffed and a little grouchy, actually. Perfect for Holy Week services.
I have such high expectations for myself this time of year. I really want to be holy and pious and inspirational. The only thing I am inspiring right now is a nap.
All my posturing, all my precious plans for spiritual enlightenment are tossed aside. I feel rushed. I feel frustrated. My expectations are so ridiculously high that I tumble off and stumble around in the dark, finally stubbing my toe at the foot of the cross.
I want to be sophisticated. I want to be proactive. I want to be completely logical and intellectual. Emotions are all well and good if I can limit them to only a small part of me. I want to be perfect. I know it is foolish, but I can try, right?
But God is not impressed with my sophistication. God just want me to show up sometimes. God wants me to come as I am. God wants my devotion, not my attempts at pious perfection.
Seven days, ten services, so much to do, I must make it holy and special and awesome. But Jesus asks: “Will you eat with me? Will you let me wash your feet? Will you listen to me? Will you pray with me? Will you stay awake with me? Will you walk with me to Calvary? Will you stay with me?”
So I will go. Who am I kidding? I will celebrate and preach and wash feet and sit and listen. I will show up. I will try to let go of my spiritual self expectations, and discover what spiritual delights the Lord has to share with me, if I will just come to him.
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