Redeeming the Time

Inconspicuously the feeling entered. Once noticed, however, this emotion of melancholy was intractable and relentless, entwining itself, it seemed, around the very core of my being and refusing to retreat despite my best efforts to make it relinquish its grasp. I was surprised to be weighed down with such a deep sadness. The previous evening had been a pleasant one, shared by the company of our priest and his family of five. Before sitting down to a dinner rich with genuine conversation and laughter, prayers had been offered on behalf of our family, water sanctified at the Feast of Theophany splashed on the walls of our entire house, and the festal troparion sung as our home was being blessed. Moreover, the external circumstances of my Monday did not seem to warrant any heaviness of heart. I had slept well, awakened before the children, managed to pray and enjoy a cup of coffee before the shouts of, "Mama!" manifested themselves, enjoyed music class with Thomas, experienced no food throwing at lunch, watched all the boys fall asleep almost instantaneously at their afternoon naps, and had no dinner to prepare because leftovers were on the menu. Nonetheless, by mid-afternoon, in my time of solitude, a heaviness took hold of me. I struggled with it but my attempts were in vain. No amount of exercise, songs sung, music listened to, emails checked, or coffee drank was going to be the quick fix I desperately desired.

As I forced myself to continue my normal Monday afternoon routine, a thought emerged from the muck of my Monday blahs and presented itself for consideration. The idea was not new but one which I had again forgotten, stashed away until something within demanded that it be recognized anew. You see, I have become lazy, even slothful in vigilantly standing guard against the barrage of distracting thoughts, which when left unchecked dismantle the place of prayer in my heart. Instead, I have indulged trivialities, and thus willfully hindered myself spiritually by moving further away from God.

In two short weeks, Orthodox Christians throughout the world will together embark upon their spiritual journey into Great Lent. During this forty day period, the hymns of the Church will become more sober, poignant, and unmistakably focused on the essentialness of individual repentance. Warnings will be yielded to not miss the Bridegroom because one's soul has become weighed down with inconsequential rubbish, spiritual lethargy, and sin. Over and over we will sing, "Open to me the doors of repentance, O Life Giver," clinging to the promise of God's mercy and forgiveness to all who return to Him. As the day retreated into the night, my melancholy gradually began to subside, and I began to take pleasure again in reading books and acting silly with our boys. Despite the intense sadness of this day, I am grateful for the gift of melancholy bestowed upon me and its service of goading me to wake me up to the one thing needful. And I am ever thankful for a loving God who, without judgment is always willing to accept a prodigal back.