Let All That You do be Done in Love
1 Cor 16:14
Credit: mindfulmazing.com
So far this Lenten season, I’ve become conscious of 3 simple instructions, only one of which was something I originally chose to focus on. They are reconnecting, giving, and presence. Today I’ll write about presence.
When Lent began, I planned to spend more time with others, but time is not presence. Time is finite and smacks of checking off a list. Presence is more, so much more. I recognize it in my oldest son, who stops me multiple times a day for a hug. I feel it in my hubby’s ‘10-second hugs’, about which I’ll write another post at a later time. I see it in my younger son’s long stories during which he doesn’t take a pause (breath), sometimes for minutes at a time, which I now realize is because he doesn’t want me to interrupt possibly cutting off his story (something magical I’m sure), because I’ve likely done that many times before. These things remind me of the brain vomit (an extensive retelling of their days, what confused them, and other unrelated thoughts and questions) I used to get from my sons at bedtime after the lights were off and I’d kissed them good night. Like many 2-career homes, we probably stopped that practice too soon for any number of good-then, bad-now, reasons. If you have children, don’t quit that too soon, or the brain vomit about their day gets bottled up and later becomes self-talk, some of it is negative self-talk to boot.
A while back, I was with a long-time friend in her mother’s home. Although ‘mom’ had died, her touch was everywhere in the house. It looked like the home of a person who cared, DEEPLY, for others. Basic finishes, possibly as old as the home itself. Worn, well cared for flooring. Simple decor. She spent her life with her eyes up, directed into the eyes (into the hearts) of others instead of down or around her, on the wearing finishes and floors. It was said that she had a way of making you feel like the most special person in the room.
In her home, I settled down onto a wooden chair from the ‘formal’ dining space, pulled up to the simple corner banquette above which were several plaques and statues of Jesus. She was devout, you see. Described by many as “my best friend”, too many to count. She was also caring, considerate and “never once complained”. She was dedicated to her family, her friends, and the schools and communities to which she gave her time; to hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who possibly never understood how impactful the moments were spent in her presence until later in their lives. It you’ve lived long enough you’ll have begun recalling these types of special moments from various interactions throughout the years.
I could feel her ‘presence’, that DNA-deep caring, making me comfortable at that table with my friend and some of her family and friends. Social settings normally make me uncomfortable, but not this one. ‘Mom’s’ legacy was all over that table, all around that room. The handful of times I’ve been in ‘mom’s’ presence, I’ve felt it. I’ve been that most special person in the room. Even bigger and more important, I’ve felt the palpable black hole in the room - the absence where judgement would normally sit. Judgement we know is our own inner voice working on us constantly. I’m not sure people fully appreciate the unadulterated power of checking their expectations at the door.
As I sat there having one of the most enjoyable conversations I’ve had in a long, long time I had an epiphany about presence. It’s true that showing up, keeping commitments, and maintaining good body language are all part of being present. But what I discovered is that not disengaging from the presence of others - mentally, spiritually, emotionally, or physically - before the interaction is ready for it, might be the full manifestation of presence as I imagine our creator intended.
In God’s infinite wisdom, just under halfway through Lent, I’ve been shown on multiple days, in multiple ways what presence really is. At work, when a teammate pings “do you have a minute?” At home, when one of my sons say, “Mom, I need to tell you/show you something". When a friend or family member says, “what are doing this Saturday?” These are the times to be present. Not next time, not later, not next weekend. During this Lent, a stranger actually told me that “busy” is an acronym for ‘being under Satan’s yoke’. Christian or not, many words could be used to replace ‘Satan’ in this acronym, and it would ring true for all of us.
And what is asked of us - a handful of commandments, to treat others as we yearn to be treated, to let all that we do be done in love (in authenticity)? In return we inherit a veritable universe of possibilities. It’s my fervent hope that you’re deeply experiencing presence, love, and peace in your life this Lent, and beyond.
When you like something, don’t you want to spread the word? I do too!
This is a reader supported publication. Please comment and subscribe.