40 Ways My Labyrinth is Like My Life--#1

Last year I posted 40 tweets about the similarities between my labyrinth and my life. At that time, there was some interest in my writing devotionals based on those 40 Ways. So this year, I'll be posting daily for the 40 days of Lent (I know, I already missed one, and I really meant to do this perfectly, but, well. . . keep reading. . .)

#1--It's not nearly as nice and geometrical as I would like.

When I was exploring the weedy field next to my new house, in the early spring of 2008, I found rows and rows of little wooden stakes about a foot tall. When I figured out that they seemed to be in concentric circles, I got excited. Could this be a labyrinth? I consulted the previous owner, and yes, it was! It was a "five circuit, modified Chartres," which you can see here: www.labyrinthproject.com/PatternFiveCircuit

Armed with a printout of the compass-perfect, computer-generated pattern as it was supposed to be, I got to work. Carefully, I ran my mini tiller along all the paths so I could pull up the stakes and mow the whole thing. Now I could see clearly, and I set about making the paths as neat and geometric as the pattern.

Or. . . not.

It was very frustrating. I like things to be, well, perfect. Or at least close.

I like to be a wonderful, loving Christian person all the time. Except when I don't.

I like to eat perfectly nutritious, well-balanced, plant-based, organic, locally grown or fairly traded food. Except when WalMart has a sale on potato chips or I really, really want Papaleno's Death by Chocolate Cake.

And I wanted that dratted labyrinth round! Not weird, with a bulge on one side and paths that are five feet apart in some places and three feet apart in others. The entry path isn't even straight, and it's definitely wider at the opening and narrower as you get in. Which might have deep philosophical meaning, but as you can clearly see, it's not that way on the pattern.

As we enter the contemplative, introspective season we call Lent, it's time to consider the bulges and uneven places in our souls. It's time to recognize two mutually exclusive truths:

1. I am not perfect. I can't be perfect, and God kind of wishes I'd quit obsessing about it and concentrate on love.

2. God loves me just as if I were. Perfect, I mean. God's kid, born of perfect love (which casts out fear, including perfectionism), and here to learn to love better and better and more and more. Created to learn (by trial and error and experience) to love God.

To love you.

And even, to love me!