It’s Heavy, So You Might Want to Skip It.


A few years back at Lent, I made a deal with God. I made what I consider to be a serious set of sacrifices for Lent, thinking (like a 3rd Grader) that if I pulled it off then God would come through for me on an issue that needed some serious divine intervention. I made very good on my promise. And I suppose I could say that God did not. Several years later I am still dealing daily with the aftermath of that issue. I could have used a little divine intervention. I really could have.

In my head, I knew that this was an immature, ill-conceived bargain. But when we really need help, The Inner Third-Grader sometimes wails more plaintively than The Voice of Reason. Paul Simon sang “Here I am Lord, knocking at Your place of business. I know I ain’t got no business here.”

It’s true. I have no business making deals with God. None of us does. I am always arguing with some of my friends, sisters, running pals – who all say that God does not give us anything we cannot handle. That phrase elicits in me the most angry response. It is used as a rationale for everything from teenaged pregnancy to an alcoholic spouse. I argue that God provided each of us with a set of efficient tools. You either learn how and when to use them or you don’t.

Well, this Lenten season, I am facing the fact that I have some wicked sharp tools and I have been lazy about using them. And I still need some help with that years-ago issue. So instead of making a bargain with God, I am demonstrating good faith in my tools that He gave me. He does not need to come through on any bargains for me. I know this. I am the one with karmic debt. The very best first step in solving my own problem is to demonstrate faith in my tools – in the gifts given me. I need to show that I remember how to use these gifts, and that I am thankful for them.

Not so oddly, running is part of the M.O by which I can demonstrate this faith. It always has been. The stolen hour or two in which my thoughts spill out to the drumbeat cadence of my feet, my heart, my breathing are precious in that they distill the chaotic list of infractions, moral debts and problems, and provide me some insight as to their antidote.

My husband says: If it is to be then it is up to me. Saint Paul extolled sola fides. But I embrace Faith AND works. I hope to demonstrate both this season.