The Unexpected. Redemption.

March Madness

St. Patrick's Day

The Ides of March

Boston Massacre

Lent

Daylight Savings Time

Happy Birthday, Dr. Suess!

First Walk in Space

There are numerous events in history that have been labeled important enough to appear on calendars. We look forward to them, we anticipate them, we even plan months in advance for them. March certainly has its share, filled with basketball games, green beer, and sometimes Easter egg hunts. For me, March has never been an easy month. I often approach it with trepidation, bracing myself for something awful, like having to walk on a bridge of glass or be a middle school student once again.

Most of my fear is rooted in loss and grief and sadness. A little more than a decade ago, my father passed away unexpectedly on a chilly afternoon in early March. I still fiercely miss him. My first husband was unexpectedly diagnosed with terminal cancer just weeks after our 10 month old was baptized. I still remember reeling from the reality thinking, "No. God wouldn't do this to us. To my boys. To me. No, no, no." I miss him, too. And then there were other March bumps in my road of life--a lost job right before spring break, an uncomfortable break-up with a wonderful guy, putting my cat to sleep. April can never come soon enough.

Unexpected. Uncomfortable. Interrupted.

In my almost middle-age (I should just admit I'm there), I have come to realize that humans, in general,  resist, fight, even hide from the unexpected, the uncomfortable, the interrupted. We avoid communication with others for fear of conflict. We shame others in their brokenness by drawing relationship barriers made of concrete. We protect our family by surrounding ourselves with safe and comfortable friends rather than pushing ourselves to love the unlovely. We hide our own shortcomings for fear of judgment or rejection, and yet, we are quick to judge and reject others.

In other words, I think we avoid redemption.

Redemption, in its finest, most powerful moment, was more than uncomfortable. It was excruciating. He cried, "It is finished," with nails in his hands, a crown of thorns on his head, and a mocking crowd before him. I can't even comprehend. But because of the cross, because of God's willingness to be uncomfortable, we experience redemption. We experience new from old, healed from broken, sweetness from bitter.

Sara Groves. Just love her and her words and her music. She creates such a stunning word picture of both the nature and the power of redemption in our lives: "Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces, calling out the best of who we are." Redemption is a comprehensive process, filled with unexpected moments, uncomfortable situations, and interrupted plans. How I wish I could rush through March and shut my eyes, hoping nothing horrific happens. But then I would miss that sweet moment or that unforgettable experience that sends redemption crashing into my soul, giving me a glimpse of my Savior. 

Okay, March, bring it on.