Do Not Lose Heart

       After Mother's death and Chris's death and Aunt Dorcas's death, I complained to Liz about feeling downhearted... that I had grown "weary in well-doing." She said she understood; and she was not surprised.

       I desire to live a wholehearted life. The writings of Brene Brown and others have wooed me to do so. To live wholehearted means being open to love, prayerful to God, gracious to others, and compassionate with yourself; but it also means exposure to heartbreak and vulnerable to heartache. Paradoxically, wholeheartedness can set one up to lose heart.

       Liz listened, then responded, "Let me read you a quote from my Weavings Journal: We become what we love; and who we love shapes what we become."

       Wow. That sentence stopped me in my downward spiral. We become what we love; and who we love shapes what we become.

       The mystics spoke loving Jesus by "gazing on the crucified Christ." They encouraged habitual attentiveness, a discipline which could shape a disciple into the pattern of Christ's love.

       Liz read on, "Rather than losing heart, we may be transformed into Christ's image and become vessels of God's compassionate love for others. This love is the root of true joy: joy at discovering in ourselves something more than our wounded desire for fairness and respect...."

       Liz didn't offer this as an antidote for discouragement, she knows me better than that. Rather, these words formed the common, but difficult ground of hope. We talked for a while about our wounded desire for fairness.

       Losing heart is a slippery slope, and for some, a vocational hazard. The psalmists warned about it, the prophets cautioned, and Jesus told parables. It is all over the Bible. Even the Apostle Paul advised, "Therefore, since it is by God's mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart." But I bet he was bragging. I bet came close many a time.

       For some of us, if felt like Lent started early this year. Death happened. Overwhelming responsibilities washed over us. The TV's breaking news broke us. We got stuck. Wilderness sand wedged between our toes long before we got to Ash Wednesday's starting line.

       I know Lent is about confession. I know it is about repentance. But there's something else I need from Lent this year. I pray that Lent will be restorative.

       Maybe all those who have lost heart, will be found; maybe the long journey toward wholeheartedness will be worth it; and maybe the best news of Lent is its surprise ending. Ready or not, Easter will happen. Easter will meet us where we are. Easter will whisper to the most downcast, "Do not lose heart."