"In true love all desire turns not to possession, but to giving." ... Hans Kung, On Being a Christian

During my growing up years, the season of Lent was a time of giving up, cleaning out, and letting go. A tradition among my Catholic friends was to "give up" something for Lent. I went along with the crowd, more as an exercise in self discipline, than because of anything my church or parents expected of me. The "cleaning out" of Lent, took the form of "Spring Cleaning" in preparation for the Easter. My mother involved all of us in an intense effort to literally "resurrect" our living space and make it sparkle! Emptying closets and dresser drawers resulted in the need to "let go"of outgrown clothing, shoes and "stuff" that had been cluttering our lives, even if we were not ready to part with them.

All the life-lessons I learned through these yearly events have been called up during this present Lenten season, since a "For Sale" sign went up on the home in which I grew up. After living in the same house for fifty years, my mother will be moving in with my brother, and his vibrant family ... a happy prospect for all of us.

But, this house has been a growing up place, a meeting place, a sanctuary for my brothers and me, and for our extended families and friends for as long as I can remember. Our daughter, Kristin, held her wedding reception under a tent in "Nana Betty's" backyard seven years ago. When son, Rob, visits from Thailand, he stays with Nana because he loves her ... and her cooking ... and because he can keep company with the deer, turkeys, foxes, raccoons, and opossums that traipse across her back yard and deck. And, forty-six years ago, when my husband Bob moved into the neighborhood, our courtship began. This house is chock full of memories for all of us, and the pain of letting it go seems proportionate to the love and joy we've experienced within its walls.

The dismantling of our "house on the hill" has been swift ... and with less anguish than anticipated. All the possessions I believed my mother was so attached to have simply slid from her hands into the hands of those who needed or wanted them. The same generous spirit of sharing and giving that my mother demonstrated while living in this house of abundance is what she is displaying in leaving it. Her ease with which she is able to "let go" is evidence that she truly understands that no accumulation of earthly treasures can compare to the feast that Christ has prepared for us: "What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, is what God has prepared for those who love Him." (1 Corinthians 2:9) She is making room in her heart for what Christ has prepared for her. This quells my heart murmurs...and gives me peace.

How fitting that this giving up and cleaning out of our childhood home should come during Lent ... a time for reflection and reduction ... a time of letting go as we journey hand in hand with Christ into the wilderness. The distraction of worldly possessions has been stripped away so that my mother can see more clearly the things that are above. What I see more clearly is my mother. I see who she truly is apart from her possessions ... and house. All that matters remains.

Thank you, God for your Spirit of Love that guides us to make changes in our lives. Let us learn, with your help, to fearlessly cast off the old, to take on the new, and to hold on to your promise that you have only good planned for us. Help us to remember that "home"is truly wherever you are, and that you are always in our hearts, when we open them to you. Keep our eyes focused on the true treasure: your Kingdom, the place where the deepest desires of our hearts can be fulfilled, and give us the faith to believe that you will take care of all our needs as long as we trust in you. Amen.

Contributed by Donna S.
Published Sunday March 6, 2005
Week 15 of Liturgical Year A