Pack Sunscreen

Today's reflection is from The Rev. Emily Schwartz Crouch, Associate Rector at St. Matthew's Episcopal Church, Louisville, KY.

When I was first approached about participating in #Lentunedited, I wasn’t sure what to think.  Like many clergy, it was the week before Ash Wednesday and I was fully aware of how underprepared I was for Lent.  The thought of adding one more thing to my plate, or giving up something, sounded like a terrible idea.  Because when in my life has giving up chocolate brought me closer to God?

Since giving up meat, desserts and wine sounded like a terrible idea during Lent, I decided to take the challenge and post about my what my life really looks like;  imperfections and all.  Like many of us, I edit the parts I want people to see.  I say it’s because I’m a private person (which is partly true), but beneath this is a fear of being exposed.  As a recovering perfectionist, letting people see the messy, ugly, lazy, crazy and passionate parts of my life help me to take myself less seriously. My belief (or what I want to believe) is that God meets us in the messiness of life.

So far I’ve posted something everyday.  Some days it’s a picture of what our house looks like (think lots of dog hair, cracker crumbs and a ridiculous number of  dirty coffee mugs),  other days I post about my fears and anxieties.  I posted about my brother’s death and the sadness that emerges when I read my daughter his books.  And I can’t forget joy—I have lots of this too.

As I preached this morning I found myself led to the image in John 3 where Jesus calls us to become children of light. Do we stay in the dark because we feel we have something to hide? I think we stay hidden because we are afraid and feel nobody else can possibly understand what we are going through.  When we stay in the dark with our secrets, our fears and our perfection we miss out on connection.  We miss out on the chance to be fully alive.  Jesus became vulnerable by becoming human.  For us to become vulnerable, we must also be willing to risk being exposed.

During this Lent, I have felt exposed.  This has been a good thing.  I have been amazed by the grace and courage of those who have responded to my posts.   How becoming vulnerable has connected me more deeply to those I care about and to those I didn’t know before.  I am grateful.  But I am also more emotional and more tender.  Sometimes I need to squint in the light, even though the sun feels good.

May you have a blessed and Holy Lent; a Lent that calls you into the wilderness of vulnerability.  Pack sunscreen, for it’s hard to know exactly when the sun will shine.