All the shattered little pieces

Sometimes, writing a blog entry is a test in subject matter searching.  Other times, I am repeatedly bashed over the head with an idea until I have no other choice but to sit down, contemplate it, and finally write something semi-cohesive.  This has been a bit more of the latter this week.  I suppose the kickoff point was a simple prayer said by one of the brothers for a meal at the monastery last weekend: "Give bread to those who are hungry, and to those of us who have bread, give hunger for your justice." (or something like that, I've slept since then, it's close enough) This simple prayer rippled through me, and the rest of the room, like a massive tidal wave.  It was over well before the impact truly hit, and I stood a little shocked at its profundity and simplicity.  Since then, the persistence of message has turned toward the concept of brokenness, and I feel they go together quite well.

Our faith, our songs, our conversations reference often the concept of being broken.  "We live in a broken world" is such a common phrase among the churched. It's this almost universal acknowledgement that everything about our collective existence is not right.  With the tumult of headlines counting deaths, wars, diseases, dangers, and tragedies, I doubt many would ever contradict this label on our world of "BROKEN".  And yet, in the Christian faith, there is a duality to the word as we are often asked to come before God as broken to be healed, as follower asking God to break us to reshape our lives to be like His, and as an offering of our own will and desires to be reduced to dust that we might seek only the true will of our Heavenly Father.  In this meaning, brokenness is to be desired to make a believer more Christlike.  Today's sermon described something denoted as the "cycle of grace".  It is a natural repeating rhythm to many of our spiritual practices and interactions of worship.  Take, Bless, Break, Give.  It describes not only the literal process of the Eucharist, but the transformative process of a life lived for God.

So as I sit here, contemplating my call and praying to know where I go next in life, I find myself wondering which step I'm on.  Knowing my life and personal struggles, I believe I'm not currently in the stage of "take" or of "break", but know I could easily find myself at either given a few changes in circumstance.  So the question is: am I in "bless" or "give"?  I suppose my best answer to that is that only a bit more time will tell.

I take comfort, for some reason, in the fact that "give" is ever so logically followed by "take" again.  It seems just another hint that our struggles to truly relinquish our lives to the divine are more or less never ending as a part of our nature...or maybe that's just me.  It seems every time I feel like I've finally managed to hand over control of something major in my life to God, I find something else I was inadvertently holding onto too tightly.  It circles right back around to brokenness.  Whenever I find that I'm trying to grasp at things I should not need control of, I'm reminded that broken hands do not grasp well at all, and that is its own blessing.  When broken, we are forced to accept those things we just can not do for ourselves.  When I broke my wrist back in high school, I had to be able to ask for help lifting and carrying things I normally took care of for myself, and what I often found was that there existed no shortage of people willing to help.  The same holds true for the love of God.  There is no shortage, no lack that could cause a drought, and no obstacle it cannot surmount.  As a wise man once told me, "The only thing that can keep us from receiving God's love is our own stupid notions that we can't have it, don't deserve it, or won't need it."

So happy Lent to all, and may you enjoy one of my favorite melodic prayers of the season.