Skip to main content

Third Sunday of Advent

It's the day we light the rose candle, the symbol of joy, and the homily was about suffering. How strange, and yet, the more I think about it, how appropriate. For it's only as the question of suffering grows ever greater, a gaping hole in the universe, that we demand anything like a suitable answer. Have you ever peered into the abyss? Have you ever faced the chasms of fear, shame, and loneliness that live inside you, or gazed at the ugliness that surrounds you? Flee from these realities and a mere household idol will be enough for you. You will only need a god who satisfies small needs and petty questions. Admit your suffering and you will have to ask the agonizing question of whether a bigger God exists. The more I've come to terms with my pain, the more I've demanded a God who knows what to do about it. My worst fear was that He didn't exist. But He does - and He speaks an answer so infinite it shakes the earth and floods it with rivers of light.

Comments

Jamie Robinson said…
Lee Ann - LOVE this! My goodness, you need to write a book about your journey...This is so raw and real, and yet brimming also with the reality of hope! Well done!
Jamie Robinson said…
I'm actually going to be speaking on Sunday to a group of ladies about Christ's passion, suffering, justice,and think your thoughts would be so relevant to what we all face if we're honest. I wondered if I might request your permission to perhaps read a portion of this in my talk as a contemporary woman's thoughts on suffering. Would tat be alright? I won't print or distribute it.

Popular posts from this blog

How to Waste Time When You Could Be Watching a Zombie Movie

Today I read one of those horrible articles that the internet seems to have been designed for, consisting of 40 tips for becoming as successful as the author: "How to Live a Full Life (and Leave Nothing on the Table) by 30." Yes, that's really the title. Normally I wouldn't publish a blog post in response, but because I managed to Come Down with a Chronic Illness (and Achieve Basically Nothing Else) by 30 and Am Currently Feeling the Aftereffects of One of the Treatments I Periodically Take, Which Causes Me to Feel High and Lose My Inhibitions, I'm just going to go for it. (Author's point #33: "Seriously, You Can Do Whatever You Want." Why thank you, young man, I think I will!)

The author's name is Ryan Holiday, and he has published several books. It sounds like he is also very wealthy, because note point #15, "Sooner Is Not Better," where he says he had a weird goal of becoming a millionaire by 25, but it didn't happen until after

Lyme Recovery, Seven Years In

When I first got my Lyme diagnosis, I went to the library and borrowed all the books on Lyme disease I could find (there were only three, if I recall correctly). One book was the personal account of a woman whose undiagnosed Lyme crossed her placenta and infected her unborn son, who later died in childhood after horrific symptoms. That book and a second featured images of magnified ticks, and I would peek through the pages taking care not to accidentally touch the photographs. I realized I might never have children. I returned the books to the library.

The third book was Biography of a Germ by Arno Karlen, a scientific essay on the Lyme spirochete. I didn't finish it because I took it back to the library as part of my stop-scaring-myself-silly dragnet. But I remembered it fondly. The author methodically explored the Lyme bacteria, Borrelia burdorferi, as an organism in its own right, a marvel of evolutionary survival that relies on a complex chain of ticks, small ani…

Me Eve, You Adam

Recently a male friend read Paradise Lost, as part of a book group that was predominately women. How I would have loved to be a fly on that wall.

I told him what I always say to people reading Milton for the first time: He was an incredible poet, but a horrible man who who portrayed the mother of all humanity as a bimbo, perpetuating an offensive stereotype as some sort of religious reality. Oh, don't get me started on this guy. I become incoherent talking about him.

After the book club meeting, my friend texted me: You were right about Milton's Eve!

I laughed for a long time at that. Then I got to thinking. What if Eve had been created first, Adam had sinned first, and Milton had been a woman?
Reverse Paradise Lost Note: Since I could not hope to parody Milton's splendid poetry, I have written this in play form. Please imagine that what follows is an excerpt of an entire work. Book II. Eve: I have completed my monumental task of naming all the animals, and I have greatly e…