Let It Be

Greetings, blog readers! It has been brought to my attention that I haven't written here in a while. I guess we could think of it like television shows: they have new episodes for a while, then they take a break and show re-runs, and then they come back with new episodes. Consider this a long-awaited new episode :)

The past few weeks have been challenging, and they've prompted me to spend a lot of time in introspection. I spend most of my time driving (the commute to Denton is pretty significant!), reading and writing papers for classes, and taking care of babies at work. I've realized that someday, I'm going to be ecstatic to be a mom. I'm in no hurry to make that happen, though, so for now, I'm perfectly content spoiling my babies with affection at work. I enjoy doing each of these things, and in general, I can't complain too much about life right now. Still, I can't shake this feeling that something is missing.

In reflecting on the Ash Wednesday Mass yesterday, I remembered that Lent is truly my favorite season of the year. Lent is a time to discern what sacrifices we can make for the one who made the ultimate sacrifice for us. It's a time of spiritual preparation, like "spring cleaning" for your heart and mind...and we all know how much I love cleaning. It's a time to figure out who you are, what you want, and how to get to where you want to be. Lent doesn't feel rushed to me, and some may argue it drags on far too long, but I intend to savor each day. For me, Lent isn't something I'm obligated to observe. Rather, I intend to use this gift to its full benefit. Lent is a time to re-center ourselves and figure out how to live our calling.

A few years ago, I decided that I wasn't getting the most out of giving up things for Lent like soda and chocolate, and I decided to focus on either giving up something more meaningful to me or adding something that would truly help me become a more loving child of God. In last week's readings at church, Jesus warned his disciples not to make money a god that we serve; one cannot serve two masters. I realized that money may not be something I put on a pedastal, but I certainly spend an excessive amount of time worrying. I worry about my grades in grad school. I worry about sky-rocketing gas prices, and I worry about saving money for the future. I worry about the children I teach. I worry about my family's functioning, and I worry about how I'm going to get a job someday. I worry about not losing connection with old friends, and I worry that I'm worrying too much. It's exhausting sometimes, and if you can relate to those worries, I empathize with you. Anxiety is such a burden, and it needlessly consumes so much of our energy.

As a Christian, I'm lucky, because I can now say the obligatory phrase that "I just need to learn to trust in God more and put things in His hands." It's so much easier to turn things over to God than to try to take it upon ourselves. Ah, how easy this is to say, and how much more difficult to live. I've said this countless times, and I mean it every time. Still, there's always something that gets in the way. This Lent, I've decided not to let my worries get the best of me. I'm not so unrealistic to think I'm going to be perfectly worry-free by Easter, and I'm not narcissistic enough to think I can do it alone with my own will-power. But I do believe it's possible, and I believe it's part of my purpose in life to learn to manage my own anxiety. This skill will come in handy someday when I'm a therapist, too; so many family issues stem from anxiety management, and I won't expect something of clients that I can't do myself. Until then, I'm going to "let it be." 

So. In whatever way you prepare your hearts for Easter or springtime, I hope you give yourself the chance to discover the best in you, who you are meant to be. Maybe if we could all just "let it be" in our times of darkness, we could help each other mend our broken hearts and live a better life. The good life's all around us.