That conversation has stuck with me over the years. When it occurred, I was going through a difficult personal time. Professionally, I was nearing retirement. Personally, I was deeply concerned about my wife’s illness, which subsequently resulted in her death at an early age. Religiously, I was seeking a way in which I could deal with the inevitable consequences of aging with grace and hope.
Over the years, I had tried with varying success to follow some of the traditional disciplines of the season of Lent. I designated a portion of my giving for the specific purpose of meeting the needs of persons far less fortunate than I am. I tried to spend more time in prayerful activities. I would select something that I could “give up” during a penitential season that might result in an increase in physical health and a reduction in my ever-expanding belt line. I would work harder at my teaching and preaching, hoping to bring the makings of a deeper spiritual experience for the congregation I served as pastor.
My neighbor did me a great service, perhaps without knowing it. I had spent my energy trying to keep the season of Lent by giving up things, by doing more, by seeking to bolster my flagging spiritual energy. I was in grave danger of seeking the Lord’s presence by performing. I was in even graver peril of falling, first slowly, and then ever more quickly, into despair.
I was “giving up,” for sure.
The smiling woman attached to the little doggie was, on that late winter day, a prophet of God. Without intending to do so, she gave me an important thought for Lent, and for any season. It is advice for all seasons.
Give up giving up!
Since that day, life has had its ups and downs. Retirement has proven rewarding and interesting, full of opportunities to not only take personal time but to do meaningful work. The Lord of the universe gave me consoling mercies in abundance. I’ve found out that the answer to despair and to depression sometimes leads me to seek help from others, some of whom are professionals in the ministry of healing. My mother’s scriptural admonition contains great truth: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning” (Psalm 30:5a).
During this Lent of the 2003 we are having the soberest of times. The terror of Sept. 11, 2001, and the shuttle Columbia accident of this year are still fresh in our minds, seen daily over television. Battles rage in a land holy to Jews, Christians and Muslims. Young men and women risk their lives in lands hardly known to us just a while back. War rages in Iraq. Views into courtrooms display human anguish at its height. People deal with physical and mental illnesses.
“Give up giving up,” my cheerful neighbor says.
I shall remember her words as long as I live, and when I reminded her of them (as I have done) we both smile and acknowledge the power of those words.
What am I giving up for this Lent? I am giving up giving up.
Posted March 25, 2003
Lawton Posey is a retired Presbyterian minister who writes from his home in Charleston, W.Va.
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