“All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”Julian of Norwich (ca. 1342–ca. 1416), in her Showings.
I've been giving a lot of thought and time during prayer, on what I want to do during this upcoming Lenten season. At Mass on Sunday I was seated next to a friend, someone I've known a long time, but not as well as I'd like. The homily was based on the readings of the Gospel, my favorite verse being Matthew 6:34: "So do not worry about tomorrow: tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."When we were getting ready to leave the church I turned to my friend and asked, "So, what are you thinking about giving up for Lent?" She answered, "Well, after that, I'm thinking I should give up worry!""That's exactly what I was thinking," I said. We made a pact right then and there to do it together, to turn it all over for 40 days, agreeing that if we missed it, we could pick it right back up after Easter."Don't borrow trouble" is a favorite expression of mine and one I'm quick to offer others, when so clearly that is exactly what they're doing. It's almost as though we believe we are jinxing ourselves without expression of every possible way things could go sideways. And while I believe in the futility of "borrowing trouble," I'm prone to do it myself, mostly out of habit.They say it takes 21 days to break a habit. I've got 40+. I not only have enough time to break a habit, I've got time to spare.Breaking from the habit of worry is really a practice of mindfulness, being in the moment, and only in the moment, actively and attentively. When worry begins to creep in, I am going to chant the mantra, "All shall be well."I cannot imagine that I'll be excited to wake up Easter morning and commence with a full day of worrying, to make up for lost time.All shall be well.