Begin Again

It’s so hard to start again,

And again,

And again...

And the more momentum built up, the greater the burden seems to pick back up. In the past, I have thought there would be a time when I would be “mature enough” to live a disciplined life, bolstering every weakness through self-examination and dedication. But sanctification is not a synonym for perfection. The divine tools for the life set apart happen to be messy ones like friends, children, pets, and also, job loss, illness, anxiety, and world-wide mourning. So, why? Why should we persist in bringing order to a life that so easily unravels?

The pandemic has been so hard for many and for my family as well. With a husband who works in healthcare he isolated from us for months, we feared job loss and then diminished income, and we experienced a few health scares. As a family we finished a very odd school year (our first year in public school), delayed many doctors’ appointments, and had one child undergo surgery. A few of us have medical conditions that make a virus like COVID-19 particularly scary. And we, I, felt so alone throughout all of it. Somehow the world kept moving, exploding, while we sheltered in place. Our comforts were stripped away. Fear and anger seemed to reign. Many days, more than I would like to count, worship was the last thing I wanted or had the energy to do. Prayer resembled more of a wide-eyed, restless staring into the dark - thankful for quiet but fearing the reports of the next day. Worship emerged through tears when the heart could not bear more news of injustice and the body could not physically separate another petty sibling fight. Lament suppressed sprang loose in phone calls and in conversations held through a locked door.

But chaos cannot continue to rule the days and nights we have, because an unmoored soul is utterly helpless against constant waves. One feeble line is all we need to cast out to begin to secure our ship. One prayer before bedtime, one song of worship while swinging in the backyard, one Bible story slipped into a snuggle. The tether doesn’t seem like much, it could even snap tomorrow, but it is a beginning. Take that one line and build off of it to create an anchor for worship. Add a written prayer like the Children’s Creed or the Lord’s Prayer to a meal. Lay a hand on your child and bless them at bedtime. You will soon find your family drawn to the anchor you have created, the peace in the storm of the day that allows everyone to gather and start over. When you have found that source of stability, you will want to cast another line and another anchor. Waves will still move the ship, they may even wash over the deck, but you will not be overcome. For the peace that surpasses all understanding provides enough refreshment and strength to tackle the day to come.

Home is more important than ever because now we can’t avoid it. There is so much on our plates and so much to figure out. You will, or already have, felt intense guilt over what you have not done. But the message of Jesus is not one of guilt; what he extends is an invitation to change. You may feel overwhelmed, like I do, about the amount of change you have to consider this year, but start small and keep going. And, to use one of my favorite quotes from G.K. Chesterton, “Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”

We cannot do it alone. We cannot will ourselves to holiness. What we can do is love God and create space to allow his Spirit to work in us. Commit to this change, to His transformation.

Come Holy Spirit, come. Bring peace to our homes, to our hurting nation, and to a desperate world. Help us to begin again. Amen.