I remember watching Oksana Baiul skate one night on TV about fifteen years ago. An incredible figure skater, Oksana had won the World Figure Skating Championships at 15 and then edged out Nancy Kerigan for the Olympic gold medal a year later.
But this was during one of the many difficult and tumultuous periods in her life and on this night she was not skating well
The television commentator was empathetic, but then said something that I’ve remembered for fifteen years. He said that the ice in an ice skating rink is like a mirror—and the ice mirrors back what is in your soul. What an incredible statement. The ice is like a giant mirror that mirrors back what is in your soul.
That’s a little scary isn’t it? Imagine that I could hold up a mirror and mirror back to you what is in your soul. What would you see mirrored there?
Or, to change the image, imagine that I had a camera that could capture on film the emotional or spiritual terrain of your heart—your soul—what would you see?
Sadly, I have to confess that, more often that I would like to admit, my heart is like a jungle—wild, chaotic, filled with uncontrolled undergrowth. Although I wish it were like a Zen garden—peaceful, quiet, serene—far too often, there is little peace, little quiet, and far too little serenity.
But that’s not the worst. There are other times when my heart feels less like a jungle than a desert—dry, arid and lifeless.
My heart is not always a welcoming place.
The season of Lent—the forty days between Ash Wednesday and Easter—invites us to remember the forty days that Jesus spent wrestling with temptation in the wilderness. And it invites us to take a long, honest look at our own hearts.
Can the jungle within us be tamed?
Can the desert be made to bloom?
What can we do to make our hearts more healthy and serene?
First, most of our hearts need a little weeding.
In a famous poem titled “The Poison Tree,” William Blake talks about an anger that took root in his heart. Watered by fears, sunned by deceptive smiles–and “soft deceitful wiles”—the tree grew both day and night until it flowered and bore poisonous fruit.
Many of us have let anger, bitterness, or resentment take root within us. My guess is that if you were to close your eyes and ask yourself if there is someone you need to forgive, a face would quickly come to mind. For many of us, that weed, that unwillingness to forgive, has been there a long, long time.
A few months ago, I was surprised to find a massive poke weed growing in my back yard. It had grown to the point where it was being noticed by neighbors. It should have been rooted out long ago.
How long will you allow the weeds of fear, anger, bitterness—or an unwillingness to forgive—grow in your heart before you take steps, by God’s grace, to pull them out and uproot them.
The second thing that our hearts need is seeding.
In case you haven’t guessed it, that’s one of the reasons that pastors encourage parishioners to spend time with their Bibles—or some devotional book—during the season of Lent. The Lenten season, like the season of spring itself, is a great time to plant seeds—to plant new thoughts, new ideas, new ways of looking at ourselves and our lives. Rather than racing around, Lent invites us to slow down and be more thoughtful, more reflective, more attuned to our spiritual life. Rather than giving up chocolate, candy, or caffeine, why not take time to deepen your devotional life, opening and cultivating the soil of your heart so that God can seed it with new insights and understandings.
The final thing that our hearts need is feeding.
Often, when I provide premarital counseling, I invited the future bride and groom to identify those things that they do that feed their relationship—those things they do to keep their relationship fresh, green, and vital. Maybe it’s candlelight dinners, late afternoon walks, weekend getaways, cooking a meal together, listening to music, or Saturday mornings at the neighborhood coffee shop. Every couple needs to be able to identify those things that help bring healing and new energy to their relationship.
In the same way, all of us need to be able to identify the things that feed us spiritually—the things that bring healing and new energy to our relationship with God. It may be Sunday morning worship, long walks on the woods, an afternoon of solitude, or experiences of prayer with friends. Over the years, when I have asked friends and parishioners to share with me the things that feed their souls, I have been surprised and delighted by the rich and varied ways that people have discovered to find a deeper sense of peace and well-being. And we can recognize immediately those people who have learned to tend and feed their souls and those who haven’t.
So during this Lenten season, my prayer for you is that you will be very intentional about taking time to weed your heart, seed your heart, and feed your heart—for your sake and for the sake of everyone who knows and loves you.
Gary Robbins, the pastor of Greene Memorial United Methodist Church, may be reached at [email protected].
