When I do rise above myself and do something good, especially something surprisingly good, I think, "Why can't I be like that all the time." Or I think, "That's not me." But both of those thinkings are wrong. Of course that goodness is me. I don't leave myself. I become me. We have been told that when Lent rolls around we must return to God and we have been told that our wills and God's will collide. That we must accept God's will. But this only proves how skewed things have been.
The truth is that the me that I am afraid to be, that feels so terrible good when I am him feels good because he is home, because he fits. And the sub-me, the half blind, grasping, miserable me, suspicious and the intrument of all of his tools of destruction is so miserable because he's a temporary and sad shack. So during Lent it is not God's heart I am traveling to, but my own. It is a house bright with lights and on walking through the door I am startled to laughing seeing that God has been waiting there all along.
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