I read a quote this morning that really struck a nerve with me. I don't know the author of it, but he or she certainly hit the nail on my head. "Faith is a journey, not a guilt trip."
Like most moms (I can't speak for dads, but from superficial appearances they seem to have less of it than moms do,) I have a load of guilt that I carry with me at all times. In fact, without something to feel guilty about, I am almost lost in space. I am accustomed to the burden on my back, in my mind, and in my heart. When I free up space by dropping part of the load, I rapidly fill the void right up again with something else.
I feel guilty about not having enough time to devote to my children, even though both are now living elsewhere. I feel guilty about not having enough money to help them with not only needs, but modest wants. I feel guilty that my yard is a mess because I don't have the inclination or energy to deal with it. I feel guilty that the dogs don't get walked enough, the rabbit spends too much time in his cage, the fish are swimming in dirty water. I feel guilty that I haven't replaced the cracked window, and my mulch has now become dust without adequate protection for the vegetation that needs it. I frequently feel inadequate at work, not up to the job that I have to do each day. I don't get my clothes washed, I don't get the house cleaned, I don't spend enough time with my mother. The list is pretty endless, and all are legitimate claims on my time and my attention that are getting shortchanged one way or another.
I think that simple phrase, life is a journey, not a guilt trip, encapsulates everything that is wrong with the culture of being a mom today. Unless you are superwoman, all things to all people all the time, you are going to shortchange someone or something worthy of more on a regular basis. But our time and energy are limited. We shouldn't waste the limited time we do have feeling guilty.
Good enough is no longer valued in our culture. We want The Biggest, The Best, The Most, The Highest, The Lowest. Whatever it is, we want to have it be the ultimate, so that no one has it better than we do.
This week, our Lenten journey takes us along the path of Too Needy. The greedy nature of being human makes us, by definition, needy. We always want more and better of whatever it is we have or want. But at some point, enough should be good enough. We should be able to stop and enjoy the blessings we already have, instead of constantly striving for something more.
Ambition is valued in our culture, revered even. But when blind ambition leads us to neglecting what we already have, then where is the value? And for that matter, where are our values?
I don't think I am a particularly needy person. I am pretty content in my life with what I have, and would just like to be able to sustain it without the wolf being at the door. My need, if it can be called that, seems to be carrying guilt that I haven't earned, that I don't really want, and which, at times, prevents me from enjoying the life I do have. It is a luxury to feel guilty, I have realized, another thing I cannot afford.
Space in my home is finite, and at some point, I have to get rid of what I already have if I want to add more. While there is infinite room in my heart for everyone that fills my life with love, including God, I think I have also cluttered up my faith life with unnecessary detritus. If I am carrying a load of guilt, where is the room for the grace?
In this week of examining what it is to be too needy, I am going to work on dropping the guilt, and simply be grateful for what I do have. Instead of worrying about what is wrong, I will focus on what is right. The alternative to need is not acquisition, although that is the instinctive response when we want something we don't have. I think, instead, the alternative should be to redistribute what we no longer have any use for. Not only is that cheaper, in the long run, it's more satisfying.
This week, I am going to try to let go of some of the guilt, and fill the space with the grace of God. It seems like a trade-off worth making.