Serenity

because isn't that what lent is about, what sacrifice and waiting are about, anyway? but knowing serenity and feeling serenity--ah, now there's the rub. because i can know in my head all sorts of things: worrying about when this baby is going to come, about family logistics, about recovery and help and the dog and the arriving cat (!!!) and how my *very* momma's boy is going to adjust to a new baby and that he still wants me the vast majority of the time, even though he looks forward all day to his Daddy coming home. worrying about being very much the marching-to-a-different-drum factor in certain parts of our family and how that is going to play out.
when i pray to st. joseph, then, for instance, what does it mean if i still "feel" anxious? if the feelings of stress and anxiety still pervade the undercurrent of my being? how much is trust a "feeling," when it is these "feelings" that are causing the turmoil? this has been a somewhat debated question of late, and the answer to which i keep returning, with growing conviction, is that while feelings are, of course, important indicators in some sense, they are not really all that important in the spiritual life; i.e., if i "feel" anxious about something, choosing not to be anxious does not mean those feelings go away. i may still have feelings of worry, but they cannot be the guide by which i make my decisions or the source for my will, my choosing. those fickle, fickle things! that can be beautiful, ugly, terrifying, restless . . . perhaps one way in which we will be restless until we rest rest in God since, for some, our emotions will lead us until grace and virtue restore the prelapsarian heirarchy with the will as leader.
and when i start writing like that, i know it's time to stop.