Lenon, McCartney, and Lent

For those of you that haven't noticed, I've had just a tad of stress lately. This morning I was in the car on the way to drop something off at church on the way to work on the way to see John for dinner when I heard a song on the radio that made me feel much better - an old Beatles song - Let it Be.

The song is based on the words of the Mother of our Lord to the Archangel Gabriel when she was told about the Child that she would bear: Let it be to me as you have said. The song also makes me think of something St. Silouan said: "The soul that is given over to the will of God fears nothing, neither thunder nor thieves nor any such thing. Whatever may come, 'Such is God's pleasure,' she says. If she falls sick she thinks, 'This means that I need sickness, or God would not have sent it.'"

St. Silouan and the Beatles always help me take a deep breath, get a grip, and put things back in perspective. As I've said here before: God is all-good, all-knowing, and all-powerful, so whatever happens to me is for my eternal good. Not necessarily for my comfort or enjoyment, but what is best for me. We are all like children being taken for vaccinations - we think something terrible is happening to us because it hurts, but it is really a brief discomfort that will save us from much worse things later. (No debates about vaccinations. I remember polio epidemics, and was in the line for the first polio vaccines. I'm old.)

Whatever God sends is what I really need. My head always knows that; my tummy knows it most of the time. It's a bit slow about some things.

Great Lent in the Orthodox Church started at sundown last Sunday. It's a fast period, which for Orthodox means basically eating vegan until Pascha (which falls a week after Western Easter this year). Fasting isn't an onerous burden but a privilege, an opportunity to enter more deeply into Lent and into God, a wonderful spiritual medicine for our souls. So I began the fast with the rest of the Orthodox world. And by this morning I was exhausted. I realized that this year, with the aforesaid stress, I just couldn't do it. It makes me very sad to miss this part of the season. But I realize that this year I need to just do the asceticism - spiritual training and labor - that God has laid on me. And that is enough.

I saw Father Matthew at the church and told him all of this, and he gave me his blessing for not fasting. (Actually, he looked at me like I'd sprouted antennae when I told him I was trying to fast under these circumstances.) (One of the wonderful things about being Orthodox is that you don't have to decide these things on your own or re-invent the wheel - you make these decisions under the guidance of your spiritual father.) (I also think parentheses are wonderful.)

Tonight it's dark and rainy, and the wind is howing outside. It shakes the house so that the dog growls at it. I try not to growl at the winds God sends to shake my life; I know I will be better for the shaking. I can hear Bob Seeger singing about seeking shelter against the wind; I know that I have that Shelter and can be at peace. I can let it be. And know that it is what my soul needs, or God would not have sent it.

Concerning Casseroles

I find great hope and consolation in casseroles.

When I was little and I was unhappy about some event in my life, Mama would tell me to go think of something good about it.  I remember one time when I was unhappy that Daddy was going out of town on a business trip. Mama said to go and sit on the couch until I thought of something good about it. I remember sitting there and wracking my little brains until the light bulb went off. When Daddy was out of town, we could have casseroles for dinner!

There's some backstory here. Daddy wouldn't eat leftovers or casseroles - I think because he was a Depression child, and leftovers and casseroles were for poor people. Mama was also a Depression child - for her, leftovers and casseroles were for reasonable, responsible people. So Mama and I had them for lunch while Daddy was at work. (For some reason that didn't bother him. He was okay unless he had to eat them himself.) For me, leftovers were a second chance at something that had tasted really good yesterday, and casseroles were the greatest food in the world.

So all that started me looking at life in a certain way. Some folks think I'm optimistic and some think I live in denial. I think I look at life logically: ignoring the good is no more logical than ignoring the bad. And logic dovetails with theology here. If I believe that God is all-loving, all-knowing, and all-powerful, then it is only reasonable to trust that whatever happens in my life is for my good. Good is not defined here as comfort, earthly happiness, or preference. We're talking here about eternal good - something I can't reliably determine, being finite and human and sinful and all that.

So anyway, that brings us back to Indianapolis. Everybody here expected me to be upset that John went into complete heart block; if he had to do it, there's no better place in the world than on the IU Methodist cath lab table. I was supposed to be unhappy that he needed a permanent pacemaker; it has allowed them to control his heart rate more aggressively, which seems to have taken care of his problem  with holding fluid and needing strong diuretics. I was supposed to be in great distress that he went into V tach, needed to be cardioverted, and got an EP study and albation; I'd much rather he did it here than at home, and thrilled that he got ablated and fixed. When the stent came along they felt so bad for me that they gave me two free meals; I'm glad the lesion was in a stentable place and am eager to see how much difference that makes in his energy level. I would tell Mama that all of this is good. I'm not being brave or self-sacrificing or anything lofty and commendable. I'm being logical. Which may or may not be better than being brave and self-sacrificing - that's another discussion.

So anyway, this is the week for casseroles - a very consoling and comforting food. I suppose the moral of all this is that when life throws things at you, just make a casserole and enjoy it.