A quote attributed to St. Teresa of Avila, much has already been written about her so I won’t go on, except to say she is one of my favorite saints, she had a keen sense of humor. I always liked Lent, even when I was little. My favorite color was purple, I loved all the purple in the church. I didn’t have to understand Lent as a child, as a child I relied on my senses, color changes, I still remember the Latin chants way back in my cobwebby brain. I remember the smell of the polish used to clean the altar rails and sitting quietly on the steps of the altar leaning against my mom as she cleaned the railing. My parents didn’t speak much of God, they lived Him in their lives. My dad never gave great theological teachings on Divine truths, but he never drove past a stranded motorist without stopping. He had a heart for truckers, brought a truck driver home one time while his rig was being repaired. I was in the car once and a dog darted out in front of us, dad hit him. He picked the dog up and took him to the vets and we waited with the family. Dad paid the bill and we were pretty poor at the time.
I never got a lecture about being pro-life from either one of them. But I remember them both getting up extra early for work so they could pick up a single mother and her baby, take the baby to the sitter, take the mom to work and then repeat it on the way home. This was during the gas crisis of the 70’s. When that young mom needed something, they were there for her, they didn’t care that her story wasn’t a “proper” one, they just quietly helped. Action coupled with a generous heart is what is burned into my memory, not anything I read out of a book, or was yammered about, or some witty craft project – it was how they lived their lives. Dad would often give stuff away that mom was still using, or was hoping to use again, she loved to tell those stories. She would go looking for something and find it missing. “Dos”, he would say, “they needed it more.” I never heard either one of them ask anything in return or say “after all we have done for them”, or “we have been so good to them”, they gave and let go. Gave and let go.
Lent has become tedious these last few years, maybe because of social media, we have a blitz of posts, articles, even the sale papers from the grocery stores trot out their fish for Lenten meals, we quickly become inundated with expectations of experiencing the perfect Lent, a good Lent, a heroic Lent. The stress of it all.
I am going to play this Lent. I am going to play hide-and-seek with God. He started it, I have been a bit slow on the uptake. Have you ever watched the sire of a litter of pups initiate play with his pups when they are older? Sometimes the pups are scared of him, this big dog, different than mom. So he gets down in the play bow, his chin on his front paws and his tail up and wagging, he coaxes them to play, only takes one brave one and soon they all venture out, their plump little wriggling bodies and paws, it can be magical to watch. So, like those shy pups, I am going to join in the game of hide-and-seek with this God of camouflage and shadow. He showed Himself twice, just this past week, the meditation by Fr. Haggerty was my decoder ring, “…small favors that could be dismissed as chance until we begin to notice their frequency….these quiet signs reveal a personality of great kindness in God.” And how will I know it is Him? By His kindness, and by absence. Absence of the unspoken “I expect something back”, absence of conditions to be met. Given and let go. Kindness.
Game on God, I have my camo on too, got my decoder ring, and my night vision goggles, lets play.
