How then, should we live?

There are so many things going on right now, they swirl around my head, sometimes leaving me feeling confused, disoriented, suddenly needing to sit down. Weighty matters and the not so weighty.

I am at war within myself. On the one hand, I realize I am not giving God the time and attention he deserves, he often comes in decidely last place, in how I spend my time. Often (as a parent this has often been the case) the first quiet moment comes at night, when my head hits the pillow and suddenly I say Good morning God! because it is the first time I've talked to him today.

Lately I have found (since I don't have to immediately spring from bed to launch myself into a job), I have a moment of two to say Good Morning, when it really is.

This one thing is important, assembling my schedule around him and not the other way around is what I want. But it is hard! Unlike most things of this world that clamor for our attention and reward us for quick response, he is quiet, he does not demand (well, not usually) my time and attention, he waits for me and hopes that I in turn will wait for him. He is patient, he does not shout and brag, demanding thatI attend to him. Which is what makes me want to attend to him.

But the war, ah that is a constant irritation. I am so grateful for the simplicity of the day, finally feeling I have a handle on things, the incredible busy-ness of our lives wears me to a dull point. I love having the day stretch out before me and know that I am going to accomplish something, be it folding the clothes and ironing, washing the floors, weeding the flowers. Something will get done. This is my burden and perhaps my gift, I try to attend to everything, and so I attend to nothing really. I spend hours shifting gears, not completing anything, being pulled from distraction to distraction. I am good at concentrating, at giving something my whole attention to the exclusion of all else. I resent the intrusion into whatever I am doing and have had to train myself, albeit poorly, to not snap at the poor soul who happens into my line of fire.

So I welcome the reduction in entropy, staying home, making this my work and focus.
Then, then I ask God, I know I should not be completely wound up in my own life, I need to turn my attention outward, what is on your heart and mind, what will you share with me today, what can I pray for, help me to be more aware of the needs of others, less introspective. And he does. But sometimes, the weight of what we see in the world is so great. It is so sad. I feel so helpless in the face of things.

Here I sit and watch as Terri Schiavo (the laughing, crying, emotive individual who is being starved to death by court order and her husband, because she is unable to speak for herself) dies a slow death and I wonder, will she die tomorrow, does she know it's Good Friday? Her parents do and the irony cannot help but be apparent to them. Is this the right thing? Is it what God wants or is it him allowing those in power to exercise free will? I don't fear for Terri's death, she will finally be free from the ravages of a long struggle. But the burden of allowing her to die falls on the shoulders of those who were entrusted with her care, and they will be judged by how they treated her. Just because God can make good come out of bad does not excuse the bad.

As I sat for my hour of the vigil last night, along side my dear friend and cohort Ruth, we chatted and she shared some poetry from a book of womens religious poetry. One of the poems was taking the individual lines spoken by Jesus as he was dying on the cross, and weaving poems about them. The one which struck me was regarding the line "woman, behold thy son!". The poem describes Mary's anguish that, for the soldiers, she could do nothing to comfort him, give him a drink, that she would gladly take him place that he would live. The cries echoed for me the cries of Terri's parents, who are kept at bay by armed guards, who cannot hold their daughter, moisten her cracked lips or wash her failing, frail body. That is the cry of helplessness and it is heart breaking.

That's just one drama, one corner of the world where people are crying tears of sadness, instead of tears of joy. How can anyone stand to open up to the sadness in this world, when we are helpless to take it away? We can pray, and I do, but part of prayer is a helpless appeal to God, to change the heart of another. And simple, loving man that he is, he says, I will help them but they have to be willing. So many people are not willing. Maybe that should be our prayer, not that God will change them, because he will, but that they would be willing to be changed. I have a sister and now, a neice, that struggle with substance abuse. The worst part is not that they have no other choice, it's the apathy that stops them from making any other choice. It's not that they can't, they wont. They are offered every help possible, and they walk away and say "no". That is truly the hardest part of all for me to accept. We are all, everyone, free to say yes or no. A forced yes means nothing. We must all make choices. If only our choices affected only ourselves.

I am not, surprisingly enough, depressed today. I am affected, perhaps maybe afflicted by the weight of things. Sometimes that happens. I don't want to roll up into a little ball and make it go away, that only dulls my spirit and makes it harder to hear God. More than anything, I want to be able to hear, and to respond. How can I respond if I am not touched by the need? How can anyone respond to a need with detachment? Anyone who has had a cold fish Doctor knows they can't really respond, they can only act. So, today, make me more of a butterfly and less of a hermit crab. Just for today, I will deal with tomorrow when it comes.