As we are winding down these 40 days of Lent and heading into the Triduum, we may feel prone to assess this special time set aside for prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and our subsequent groanings under the various forms of sacrifice Our Lord has permitted us to experience as a means of growth in virtue, self-knowledge, and most importantly in love for Him and our neighbor. A spiritual truism was squarely presented to me a week or two ago when meeting with a friend who mentioned her rising awareness that she was trying to control her cross. I felt as if I had been hit squarely between the eyes as I began to process this remark. Hmmm. Yes, if I were brave enough to admit it, I was in a free fall, after losing control of my primary cross at this time in my life. I had thought I was managing "it", and had tucked away all the tricks in recognizing its timing, its behavior, its meaning, its treasures, its tendencies...Maybe not. This delusional thinking has blown up in my face over the past six weeks or so, as I realized that despite my best efforts to control, it is not in my hands. In the midst of this realization and subsequent temptation to panic and seek to find other means to control my cross, Our Lord has very mercifully and patiently been inviting me to a deeper surrender into the mystery of His suffering and His Divine Will. He is asking me to explore the hinterlands of these unpredictable experiences which touch the very fabric of life itself and cause such fear and anxiety within me, as He holds my hand and shows me the way through the darkness of the unknown.
I was struck by the image of a kite, and its crossbeam in the middle. I remembered being on a beautiful stretch of beach in the Outer Banks of North Carolina when my husband and I were first married. Chad had just received a trick kite that had sophisticated strings, pulleys, and multiple beams to support the shape of the kite. He operated the kite with lots of mastery and skills as the kite glided on the ocean breeze and we watched it dance with the wind. When I asked if I could try it, we saw that a storm was fast approaching. I took the two strings to control the kite, but found with my lack of training and the incoming adverse weather, that the kite was darting and diving beyond my control. I had to let go in order to avoid catastrophe and wounding my dear husband's head!
After sharing this conversation a couple of weeks ago, this image has been etched on my mind. The solution of letting go has seared itself upon my very being. I wrote the following poem to express just a little of the interior significance of this insight.
Kite's cross-beam
Giving shape to this morphing figurement
Gliding across the sky.
Manipulating strings with deft fingers,
Directing its flow and course
As it drifts seemingly freely across the horizon.
Dodging tress, darting through low nimbus clouds
wrestling the wind's powerful and
Bombastic flaring with intentional
Abandon.
Until, that forceful gale,
Roaring like a lion, overtakes my planned
Directives, and casts me to the ground.
String snatched from outstretched hand,
Dangling ever higher into its reaches
Kite lost in the symphony of carefree and
Combative current as a whistling banshee.
Soaring higher and more dangerously close to
Disasters awaiting:
Cliffs, trees, foamy ocean waves,
Children at play.
Beyond one's grasp,
Brutal reality emerges.
Outer material torn asunder.
No control.
No direction.
No strings.
No attachments.
The crossbeams
Remain the sole support.
The Cross.
Only.
