This winter has been hard. I can see it in what I have been doing, or more accurately, not been doing. I had plans, once the holidays were over, that I would sew and clean the basement and write. I had emails to return and phone calls to make. I have never, in all these years of blogging, gone this long without writing anything. But instead, I fussed with a failing computer, watched way too much television, fought the flu, and slept.
I was talking with a coworker last week about this. Thankfully, she is a woman of great faith so she understood what I was saying. I told her I felt empty this winter. We talked about my view of hell. Most people picture it as scorching hot, flames of fire, unquenchable thirst. I see it as just the opposite. Hell is winter and cold. Because, after all, what is hell? The absence of God. And what is winter? The absence of heat and color and life and growth.
I don't feel the absence of God. Far from it. But this winter made me feel like I was getting a little glimpse of hell. And you know what? I don't like it. At all.
At Mass on Sunday, Father reminded us, that Lent, too, is long and difficult. As we marked Laetare Sunday, Lent’s midpoint, we might just feel like giving up. If we have stumbled on our Lenten observances, whether it’s giving up sweets or TV or doing something extra, it is at about this time (donna) that we’re ready to just quit. (get out of my head, Father!) But don't! He said now is the time to recommit. To keep trying.
So I guess winter is a bit like Lent. Maybe I fail. Maybe I feel like I'm running on empty. But, try. Even just a little.
|Satchel says it best|