Lenten Longing

My cat was missing for a couple hours today. We had contractors doing some work in the bathroom in our basement, and their equipment was quite loud. A few hours after they began working, I realized I hadn't seen the cat all morning. We were afraid he had gotten out of the house because we had looked everywhere we could think of--under beds, in closets, on bookshelves--but we didn't find the cat. I couldn't imagine where he was, but I knew he was certainly scared. He is very skittish when it comes to noises and strangers, and he was dealing with both. The terrified kitty had found a hiding place in a very dark, narrow corner behind the furnace. When we finally realized where he was, it took about 10 minutes of coaxing to get him to come out and join us upstairs, away from the noisy work in the basement.

Curled up safe on Mama's bed.

These days, I feel a little like my anxious cat. I want to simply hide in my quiet corner where nobody can see me. It's been a rough winter. In New England, most folks are happily watching the big melt. The snow drifts still extend several feet into the secondary roads in my neighborhood, but they're much shorter than they were two weeks ago. Driving is much easier with the improved visibility and clearing of the ice ruts, but now the potholes present new challenges. I've been blaming the weather for my melancholy, but the empty feeling I've endured these long dark months hasn't improved much with the longer, warmer days.

The darkness descended upon us in October. During Advent, I was hopeful. By Christmas, I still felt meh.

At New Year's, I made some goals and tried some challenges. I didn't quite achieve as much as I had hoped, and the clean eating thing fell apart a few weeks into the challenge when I neglected the exercise portion. The focus on goals related to food and finance interests me, but it hasn't helped my disposition.

Lent began, and in those first weeks I was reading a spiritual book and going to a discussion group at church. Again, I was hopeful that my mood would improve. The spiritual boost from the book seemed to be transforming me as my daily focus started to shift: "Our lives change when our habits change" (Matthew Kelly). Alas, one of the February book discussion events was cancelled due to a pending snowstorm, and the next discussion meeting was a month away. I stopped reading and stopped changing my habits. The meh feeling came back full force.

I don't want to have a self-hosted pity party. I don't want my readers to feel sorry for me. I want to find the holiness God wants for me. I want to stop hiding and start living.

How? How can I let God in and listen to his voice? How do I let God coax me out of my dark, quiet hiding place?

I suppose the first step is to go back to the book, to Rediscover Catholicism. My faith is the reason for so much of what forms me, and yet I'm not really living as the "best version of myself" as Matthew Kelly says.

Lord Jesus,

Send your Holy Spirit to guide me during the final weeks of Lent. Help me prepare to receive you with true Easter Joy.

Amen.