the acceptable time

It's been a rough week. I have been frustrated, and sad, and frustrated, and feeling so very alone. My body has frustrated me, my husband has frustrated me, etc etc, blah blah blah. But it's also been a good week, looking back. Externally at least. I have been and done, mostly, what I want to be and do.

Yesterday I was the sort of stepmom I want to be. After school, I helped one with her homework while chitchatting with the other. Then, I built a block tower with the redhead while chitchatting with his sister. Then, she and I made brownies in Christmas molds, which delighted her. And me. Now I have brownies to eat. Both kids were bathed, the kitchen was cleaned, a delicious dinner was made, the kitchen was cleaned again, and both kids were tucked in bed on time. Both were skipping and singing on their way. Happy kids are the "A" on the day's report card.

I'm not sure why this is, but it always seems to be times when I'm lowest that I seem to be the most patient and able to focus on the needs of other people around me. I'm really not sure how that works out. But I'm grateful.

Last night was an anniversary for me. Eight years ago, something particularly negative occurred in my life. It wasn't out of the blue, though it was unexpected. And I won't be daft and say that everything was fine before it. I wasn't fine. But let's use this image: it was the wrecking ball that eventually brought down an already decaying building.

But today, I'm sort of thankful for it. Not that I'd sign up for a repeat. But consider. I'll say all the traditional things that people say when they come through something ugly: I learned who I am, I learned who my friends are, etc etc. All true. I also learned what mercy isn't and what justice isn't and what forgiveness is.

Mercy isn't about sparing hardship. It's the voice that calls us through it. Justice isn't about vengeance. Vengeance is something different, though it has its place in one hand of justice. Justice is about giving to each what they are owed. No less, and no more. Justice and mercy must walk hand in hand. They are not themselves without each other. They must speak to each other if they are to speak to us. Neither weakens the other. They are fire and steel. They heal. They cleanse. Without them, we stay sick and dirty.

Forgiveness springs out of the heart of both. Forgiveness must be honest. It must say, "this harm was done." It may not say of a harm that it was not done. It must not diminish the harm. It must not inflate the harm. Forgiveness must look the harm in the eye, hold it in the palm of its hand, and put it away. Forgiveness looks forward to the day that the putting-away can be completed. Forgiveness feels pity, real pity, for both the harmer and the harmed.

I have some idea of the trajectory I was on on February 18, 2002, and I know that had that event not happened, the person I am today would not recognize, understand, or probably even be able to converse with the person I would have become.

I easily could have married him. Thank God for making that impossible.

Lent started Monday. I've been reading The Lenten Spring as part of that journey. I realized only a week or two ago that Lent was already almost here, and knew I wasn't ready to start the Fast on time. I'm preparing this week and will start next. I'm ready and excited.

Lent is called "the acceptable time". I'm interested in finding out more about that.