A Balanced Life

The season of Lent is once again upon us. It is the 40-day period prior to Easter that mirrors Jesus' 40-day wilderness journey of fasting and temptation - prior to beginning His earthly ministry. We usually "fast" from something essential or meaningful as a reminder of Jesus' sacrifice. Or, we might add something to our life - like a daily time of prayer and study; or we might add intentional service to others. During Lent, we do spiritual inventories to see what bad habits we need to break, and what good habits we need to (re)establish. We, too, travel into the wilderness of doubt, pain, and struggles.

Recently, I have been studying the Celtic cross, and how it can be a reminder for us to have balance in our lives. The circle in the cross shows the intersection of 4 'quadrants' of the cross - the fusion of all areas in our lives. While I understand the need for balance in life, and the need to both fill up (receive) and pour out (give), for some reason, I'm not completely convinced about a balanced life - at least from an individual standpoint. I'm not saying that we shouldn't be concerned with self-care. It is important for us to take care of ourselves, so that we can care for others. I get it. Yes, even Jesus got hungry, tired, and angry. And he needed to retreat in solitude, at times. But even when he pulled away, there are times where he prayed all night long. That doesn't sound too balanced to me. To me, the cross is a reminder that we are to give all we can - all the time. In fact, the cross tells me that we are to give until it kills us. That's what Jesus did. But, again, it's not about thinking individually; it's about the collective good.

I think the reason we are to give until it kills us is because, for some, life seems to keep taking from them. I have a friend who hangs out with me in the church office when I work. He is very good for my spirit. I've mentioned him before. The world would say he has "special needs," but I say he has special gifts. He has a lot of strikes against him, and so does his family. He lives in a very small house - too small for the 6 people who live there. And all 6 people who live there have multiple issues and concerns: Multiple Sclerosis, heart attacks, strokes, asthma, special needs, and now, I learn my friend, who is so good for my soul, is going blind. This is not a balanced existence. I think, for this family, balance is a luxury - something seemingly incomprehensible. Their life is all about just making it from one moment to the next because of the numerous needs that need to be addressed all the time, every day. I know that there's only so much I can do to help my friend and his family. I'm not called to be The Great Fixer. There's only one with that job title. But I call myself a follower of The Great Fixer. And as a follower, I must imitate the ways of my teacher. And in doing so, I give all I can to help them. I give until it kills my self-pity and self-doubts. I give until it kills my selfishness in self-interests. I can live more simply, so that they can simply live. This is what I think a balanced life is supposed to look like. It might not be balanced for my friend and his family; and it might not be balanced for me. But together we offer balance. And in this, we find God's grace, love, and mercy. Maybe this is the type of balance God intends for us.