Prompt thought of the week:
Sometimes the things we think offer love actually seek to bind us, preventing us from being full and whole and offering our best love to the world. The story of Lazarus, whose funeral shrouds trail him out of the tomb, offer us a metaphor of new life as we recognize that true love is that which unbinds us, that wants for us more, not less, freedom and life. Jesus says to us, “Come out!” Walk! Live! Love! Shed your funeral clothes and offer your deepest self, your deepest love, for the world. Of course this kind of love can be dangerous, as we will see as the events of Holy Week loom closer. But the price of continuing to look for love in the wrong places is higher than the blessing of life lived boldly.
The Liberator
After adopting two children, getting divorced from a man who didn’t believe in child support and making a divorce agreement that he would get the cars, house, money, etc. and I would get the children, I was a little frantic, but happy. Never having been the type of person who planned her life and because so many unexpected things had happened so far in my short life I had learned to trust that I would always be OK because I’ve always felt close to God. Worrying about my children was a different story for some reason. Perhaps it was because they were adopted and I felt so grateful to have them that I felt that I needed to be a perfect mother and they must have a perfect life and so I set out to do just that. It was a perfect way to set myself up for failure!
Soon I found myself working two jobs to pay for our new home, our new car and all the other things I thought were necessary to give my children all I thought they deserved. Because sleeping three hours a night isn’t enough for most people, I became a crazy person. Money and the fear of not enough became my Lazarus bindings. I lost sight of my innate values, the meaning of family, and the fact that above all, I wanted my children to feel loved and cherished. I had been chased out of my true life by another master.
The meaning of hell for me was when I looked into my children’s faces and instead of joy I saw unhappiness. I quit my jobs, sold my house, paid all my bills and moved us to the mountains. I put us on a strict budget and at the end of the month when we were nearly out of our budgeted funds you could find us at the river, fishing for our dinner. We were happy. I had shed those ties and I knew I’d never again go back. Love is my only master now and I’ve never been happier. If it’s not about love, it’s not about God!
Dianne Mahler