Monday mornings tell us the truth. If we’ve been fortunate enough to take some kind of break, or to move at some slower pace, over the weekend, Monday morning, can reveal to us what we really think about the majority of our days and the trajectory of our lives.
Some meet Monday with anticipation, eager to jump back into their work or family routine. Some meet Monday in desperation, dreading all the ordinary hours ahead of them. We may be on the extreme ends of the scale or some place in the middle, but this is the morning of pure measurement. In the raw re-entry into the week, with all the possibility and responsibility ahead, is this the life we want?
Of course, Monday is about more than just my life, but our life. If we’ve spent the weekend wrapped up in our families or our friends, Monday is often the day we re-enter the larger world. Of our work, our city (traffic) and even the whole wide world. And Monday morning, we are reminded of the News, the tragedies, the conflicts, the occasional victories. Monday comes with headlines.
Several months ago I started using Monday morning to pray through the headlines. I didn’t really start this ritual on purpose. The truth is that I wanted to be the kind of person who started the week with prayer but I couldn’t stop looking at my phone. Monday means new emails, new tweets, new stories. So I decided to redeem my ridiculous attention span and pray through all the words coming at me through my phone.
A few things happened:
-My email inbox became a place filled with people who needed compassion and kindness. The requests for information, or answers, or cooperation, revealed a network of people all hungering and thirsting for meaning and connection. It was probably always this kind of place but I couldn’t see it before.
-The News stories about giant problems in far-off places featuring abstract collections of players became about real humans. Rather than just praying for “world peace,” I started praying more often for God to show me how I participate in these stories. How I contribute to power plays and how I might be complicit in the battles for the world. I started praying for how I might avoid the broken patterns and contribute to the redemption patterns. I began to grieve the News, to confess my part in the News, and to ask how I/We might change the News.
-The voices on Twitter became teachers, either of how to speak or not to speak. Instead of immediately refuting everything that made me uncomfortable, I looked for things I needed to know or hear. I practiced submission to the voices that sounded wise and true. And for the shouting voices that sounded unwise and untrue, I tried to practice grace, hoping that I might be able to repeat the practice when I meet those kind of voices away from the screens.
-Facebook still seemed like an angry, petulant jungle of tired and hungry toddlers who refuse to take a much-needed nap.
Photo (Flickr CC) by Steven Ritzer
Latest posts by Laura Buffington (see all)
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- Imaginary Friends Forever (#IFF) - May 17, 2015
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