Tonight, I do not know how to write. Perhaps I have forgotten how.
All week, unseen demons have knocked upon my door, dropping off packages of brain-numbing fatigue and impending virus. I peek through the curtains and decide not to open the door.
I suspect that they do not like that I have given myself over to the Way of Love. They tend to discourage that sort of thing. They suggested I wait a bit before beginning the Week of Love and now they propose that I take a night off. "You need rest," they whisper. "It won't hurt anything."
They are not pointy-tailed creatures with pitch forks. Not at all. They are the ordinary events and experiences that life brings: a sore throat, a body that would rather burrow under the covers than encounter chilly morning air, a mind that feels foggy, a soul uninspired.
These demons are, in fact, so ordinary that one is tempted to not think of them as demons at all. After all, what is more common than the common cold? There is nothing unusual about feeling tired or uninspired after a period of deeper spiritual reflection. Why call them demons? It's just normal stuff. Rest is a good idea - why resist it?
It is so easy to slip into their clutches, to embrace the sensible excuses about why it is that tonight - just tonight, of course - I don't need to pray (or write or make a commitment). There is always tomorrow and perhaps I will feel better then.
They are demons because they make it seem perfectly reasonable to accept the detour away from Love and back to the me-first, choose-comfort and avoid-suffering world in which we live. They block the path to God while convincing me that they just know an easier route.
But they are demons. I will not open the door to them. Instead, I will proclaim Love.
(Excuse me for a moment; I'll be back shortly.)
+++
Sorry, I really didn't intend to be gone so long. I had thought it might be best to proclaim Love with a bit of color and so I went and dropped some alcohol inks on paper.
While the ink was drying (and I already had an apron on), I thought I might as well wash the stack of dishes that had been piling up all week.
And, while washing the dishes, it only made sense to put on some music...and the next thing I knew, I was dancing.
The ink has dried and, with the help of a bit of technology, I have added the words that proclaim Love in a way the world has never been able to forget.
Now, I share this proclamation with you that it might strengthen you - as it has me - in keeping the demons away.
Many blessings and much love in the name of the One who is Love...
(Comments and contributions are most welcome during this Week of Love and throughout this series on the 7 holy pauses. You may e-mail them to me at findhope@roadrunner.com.)
