Wednesday of the Third Week

I’ve been a journal keeper for years. The years stack up in one bookcase and overflow into another. I’m grateful for them; reading the years helps me remember what I was doing, but even more they remind me of what I don’t need to do anymore.

My ritual each morning is to sit and write with a cup of black tea beside me. Black tea with milk, mind you. Sunderland is a very British name, after all. And when I write, I dump all the stuff that went on the day before and figure out what I have to do in this particular day. It frees up my hard drive, so to speak.

One of the things I’ve noticed is that I don’t have to battle anger anymore. That doesn’t mean I don’t ever get cranky, but my anger was far more explosive. I can remember, however, when I last felt it: a week or so ago, an injustice came our way, and both my husband and I both reacted. I could feel the power growing in my chest. So could he.

And then we looked at each other and said “To battle!!” and laughed. We’ve been warriors together too many times, and in that shared laughter, realized we didn’t have to do it any more.

For years, my Lenten practice was to dump my anger. Now I’m working on the cranky part.

Have you paid attention to all the stuff you’ve dumped over the years?

Take a few minutes, list the things you don’t have to do anymore. Maybe that’s a blessing you can put in your jar today.




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