As
I prepared to compose this item, my eyes rested on the ceramic mug on
the window ledge in front of my desk. It blends blues and browns
beautifully, has a handle that fits my hand perfectly, and features the
Greek word for "fish" within a fish (an ancient Christian symbol)
overlaying a simple cross. The mug came from a friend and the initials
of the friend who crafted it are on the bottom. It has been with me for
years, but I never have used it to drink coffee or tea. It sits on my
window ledge, always beautiful but seldom noticed, capable of many
things but used only to catch sunlight and dust. What would the artist
who created it think of that? Would he rejoice that I do not risk
chipping or breaking it, or would he lament its unfulfilled purpose?
Each
of us is as beautiful and as potentially useful as my ceramic mug. Our
Lenten journey challenges us to ponder what the artist who shaped us
would think of the ways we accept and respond to the gift of life.
No
one can do everything, but we all have little-used and under-developed
talents. Is there at least one that we would like to dust off? Some
chronologically gifted folks keep their attitudes young by regularly
trying something new. Many people avoid or climb out of ruts by keeping
their interests varied. It's probably best not to take up lacrosse at
eighty or begin woodworking at six, but whenever we develop a new
ability we change the way we view the world. With so much to see and
experience, we grow closer to the Artist as we experiment with our
capacities and proclivities.
No one can do
everything, but we all have passions, intense longings to learn about a
particular topic or pour ourselves into a particular area of study or
service. Unbridled passions can lure us into danger, but unfulfilled
passions can leave us hungry for life despite all we are and do. When we
always wait for a better time or place to try to make a difference or
to expand who we are, we reject part of our lives. If a book keeps
calling, an opportunity constantly catches our eye, or a gnawing feeling
that we should become involved refuses to go away, perhaps it's time to
take time, even if that means juggling the schedule or resetting
priorities.
Life
is a gift. We have nearly unlimited ways to receive and use that gift
with gratitude. The abundance of our lives increases the more we live on
purpose. That holds true even when our purpose is to relax a little
more and develop our talent for observation and reflection. (Some people
call that prayer.). Unless something within them is seriously flawed,
people who live on purpose surround others with wonder and help them to
live more abundantly as well.
Tomorrow morning I
plan to drink coffee from that beautiful blue and brown mug. I may
decide that it's best suited for my window ledge or I may risk using it
daily. Either way, I will have gained something. That reminds me of
words attributed to Jesus: "Those who want to save their life will lose
it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the
gospel, will save it" (Mark 8:35). That's reason enough to ask whether
it's time to get off the ledge.
Lenten Blessings,
LP
From
the news: Senator Christopher S. Murphy, Democrat of Connecticut,
wonders what prompted Adam Lanza, the gunman in the Newtown shooting, to
put down his rifle after killing twenty children and pick up his
pistol. Aware that often "amateurs have trouble switching magazines," he
finds himself saying, "I believe ... that if Lanza had to switch
cartridges nine times versus two times there would likely still be
little boys and girls alive in Newtown today."
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