Stop Lights

Have you ever felt your anger or stress level start to sky rocket as you approach a light and it goes from green to yellow to red? Anxiety seeps in. Thoughts race, "Oh my gosh now I'm going to be late, now I'm not going to get as much done, now I am wasting time!!!"

On average, an individual spends 6 months of their life waiting at red lights. It's on the top 10 list of most annoying time wasters. However, what if this moment at a red light is actually more than just an annoying, crappy, waste of time....what if it actually holds within it a secret (even deep, spiritual) purpose and meaning for my life?

I could speak about our need to stop and breathe in the world of busyness or our over committed schedules and culture, but there is something even deeper here that we all too often miss out on in the midst of our self centered schedules and days (gosh dangit, why doesn't time revolve around me and the light turn green when I pull up ?#@*&!).

I was driving to work this past week, and I was approaching a light. It felt like it turned red just to spite me. I felt the muscles in my face go from relaxed and joyful to tensed and angry. My radio was on as background noise and I was mechanically singing along to a song.  About a minute into my red light wait, the words to the song I was singing hit me.

"I'm alive, I'm alive... because He lives. Amen, Amen. Let my song join the one that never ends (Matt Maher - Because He lives)."

And suddenly I was unstuck. I wasn't just waiting aimlessly at another stupid red light. I was praising from the depths of my little heart.

Here I was, after going through all 40 days (plus Sundays!!) of Lent, without listening to any other music or public radio, and listening only to religious music, Christian radio, the Rosary or sermons on CD. And it had been a struggle (I have serious radio ADD). Yet it took getting past Easter Sunday to realize that despite all of this Lenten (human...) effort, how much MORE could I be praising God?

If I spend 6 months of my life at red lights, how much of that time have I wasted away out of anger or frustration?  How much more can I spend praising God for the fact that I am alive and that He has given me this gift of new life through His Resurrection?  It gives time (even waiting, stopped, "wasted" time) value and worth beyond this world. This earthly existence of driving to work and stopping at red lights means so much more than the annoyance assigned to it by the world.

What about the "stop lights" of my life? When I am stuck waiting or a door closes (or slams in my face) - what will I choose to do with that time? Will I choose to waste it away....

Can I choose to live in praise rather than the frustration, doubt, fear, and shame that so often comes sometimes when I am anxiously awaiting the next thing in my life? It should remind me always to live in the grace of the present moment. I feel I have uncovered another treasure buried in St. Paul's exhortation to "Pray without ceasing (1 Thessalonians 5:17)."

There is another famous phrase that goes, "When one door closes, another one opens, but it's the space in the hallway that can kill you."   I am still learning to find the grace in those moments, the quiet praise of God that can come from the depths of my soul, when I simply praise God because I am alive (and waiting!!!) in the present moment.

Dark Desert Nights

I was recently listening to someone read the passage of Matthew (chapter 4, verses 1-11) where Jesus is tempted in the desert for 40 days and nights. At first my brain was kind of like, "yeah yeah....same story...Jesus tempted, desert, lent, sacrifice, fish on Fridays, yada, yada, yada..." But then my brain woke up, and was like, "Hello...40 days AND AND AND NIGHTS...." Dang. The word "Night..." just echoing in my mind. My heart sank.

Jesus in the desert, at night, being tempted by Satan himself.  Let the reality of what that must have been like sink in....

I get nervous walking my dog outside at night in our backyard even anywhere that is remotely close to a small patch of woods. That's 20 feet from my house, with a 90 lbs. dog to protect me, with no one tempting me to sin.  I have also fought my own dark battles with depression both in high school and with PTSD after college. Deep, dark, very scary battles.

And here is Jesus, my Savior, both God and still very much a man...alone in the darkness with Satan. He's not sleeping, he's not eating, it gets very cold on desert nights, and he is totally alone, and he's under constant torment from Satan. The account in Scripture gives us only a small glimpse into those 40 days. All I know is that when the angels came to minister to Him - what relief there must have been and solace in that comfort from above. Like a war torn soldier coming home and finally receiving that well earned rest away from the enemy and bloody battles.

God knows what it is like to fight hard battles. He knows what it is like to feel completely abandoned. He gets what it is like to be on the brink of giving up. Yet how often do I forget that reality both in my big battle moments (like with PTSD) and in my day to day struggles (fighting impatience, gossip, greed...). He knows. He really really knows.

Lean on his strength. Lean on his love. Lean on his presence.