Inspired by Scholastica

Dealing with our painful emotions such as anger, shame, guilt, fear, grief, and loneliness are challenging for all of us. They rise up at the most inconvenient times and hang around when we want them to go away. We don't often think of the benefits that negative emotions bring. Evelyn and James Whitehead in their book, Transforming Our Painful Emotions, give concrete examples of how to handle these emotions in healthy ways. They guide readers through the dark, uncomfortable territory to discover gifts most of us never think about. Anger at some injustice can make us take action to right the wrong. Shame helps us protect our personal dignity. Guilt gives us the impetus to maintain our personal integrity. Loneliness can aid us in our search for intimacy. Fear alerts us to dangerous situations and can lead to courage. By dealing with our grief we can open ourselves to hope. The Whiteheads warn against clinging to these painful emotions and getting stuck. If we wallow in our

Last week at our community retreat Father Jerome Kodell spoke about the spiritual path through the wilderness. He compared it to the exodus of the Israeliltes through the desert after fleeing from the Egyptians. It was not an easy, direct path. In fact, they wandered for 40 years before reaching the Promised Land. They complained to Moses about leading them through a vast wasteland, and longed for the fleshpots of Egypt. They doubted God's word about giving them a land flowing with milk and honey. They were not satisfied with the manna God gave them; they wanted meat so God provided quail. When they were thirsty God gave them water from a rock. The Israelites slogged through a circuitous route, feeling lost and afraid, but they reached Mt. Sinai. Our spiritual journey is similar to the Israelites of old. We lose our way frequently and complain about the hardships. We think "the road not taken" might have been easier and more fulfilling. We doubt God's care and

I have them under cover, hidden beneath my mask so no one will notice, no one will be aware of my blunders. Yet upon closer inspection my mistakes become more evident unravelling the edges, sticking out for all to see, hard to ignore. Why do I think I have to hide, or exclude these scars of my humanity? Do I want to be like stone, hard and solid? Or malleable and stretchable, ready for reshaping and repairing, each day starting over again to be more flexible, more permeable? Yes, Lord, remold my clay again, make me into a new creation able to use my wounds, my errors, to console, to nourish, to serve those who are struggling too.

When I was young I thought of Lent as a time to give up things like candy or desserts or TV programs. Six weeks is a long time when you're giving up things you like. Of course, I failed perodically and then felt guilty, starting over again with new resolve. Now I see Lent as a time to reflect more deeply on the Scripture readings of the day, to be more faithful to prayer, and to practice works of charity. It's still long, but not as painful. Of course, I have the advantage of living in a religious community with the support of others' good example. We have numerous opportunities for prayer and good works. All we need to do is push ourselves a little more. When I'm feeling a little lazy or selfish, I look at our sisters in our care home still participating in prayer, still helping others, still doing handiwork for our gift shop, and I am edified. God gives us this special time to get back on track and to become the kind of persons we want to be. In his Rule