Lenten Season

This is an excerpt from a song by Jars of Clay titled Art in Me:

“In your picture book I’m trying hard to see turning endless pages of this tragedy. Sculpting every move you compose a symphony. You plead to everyone, ‘see the art in me’.”

I love this song because it reminds me that God’s beautiful creation envelopes me, if only I will notice. Indeed, we are all works of art by the true Master. I sometimes just stop what I’m doing and think of His plea: “See the art in me.” And there it is. Always right in front of me, waiting for me to notice: the sea of blue overhead, the sound of leaves tossing about in the wind, the grinning faces and laughter in a house full of children, and my wife’s big brown eyes. Man am I blessed!

“Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (NIV)

“Pray continually.” Several other translations say “Pray without ceasing.” Sure, I do that, right? I mean, I pray when I get up in the morning, or when I get an email or a Facebook update from a friend with a request. I pray for good evaluations at work and for good weather for an event. I’ve even been known to pray that my favorite team wins their game, or that the moron who just cut me off driving 95 down the Tri-state gets pulled over. Somehow, though, I don’t really think that’s what Paul was referring to when he was talking to the Thessalonians.

Lord I Am An Instrument Through Which Your Blessings Flow

In February of 1987 I spent part of the Lenten season in Advocate Good Samaritan hospital in Downers Grove, recovering from a massive heart attack and emergency surgery. After several days in the Surgical Heart Unit, unconscious initially, I was moved to a hospital room where I was monitored continuously. On Ash Wednesday it occurred to me to visit the Good Sam Chapel to meditate and give thanks. So with the doctor’s approval I was “unplugged” and enjoyed the freedom of walking and riding the elevator by myself on the way to the Chapel. It was quiet there as sunlight and shadow mixed in the small space.

I sat relaxing, thinking of nothing in particular – just being. Then words began to form. I had so much to be thankful for, and to so many, starting with my wife, Ruth, the skilled doctors and nurses, and people who prayed for me. Had God given me a lesson in mortality, and a chance to redirect my life following this crisis and recovery? How could I be more deserving of the gift of life? I recognized that I was sometimes judgmental and quick to anger, and with this self assessment came the opportunity to change.