Fifth Sunday of Lent
In thinking about what to write for this Lenten reflection, I looked at today’s first reading. And the first few lines are “Thus says the Lord God: O my people, I will open your graves and have you rise from them, and bring you back to the land of Israel.” Those few lines felt like my writing journey so far this year.
I’ve felt a little like my will and drive to continue writing has been tired. It’s not gone, but it’s like someone hit the mute button on the remote, but I can’t find the remote to turn it back up. In some ways, I’ve felt like a part of my love for what I do has been in the grave. Which isn’t something I’m used to feeling.
I believe that what you love and want to do with your life is something that God puts in your heart. He gives you a passion for something and you know you’re meant to do something with that. It will take hard work, perseverance, practice, and patience (which if you read my Advent reflection you know is not my favorite), but I think it also some with questioning and confusion. Because that’s where your faith is really tested.
When Jesus died on the cross, I would imagine that even for His most devout followers who believed He would rise again, there was a seed of doubt that he would not. I imagine they had to let that voice come up and tell it, it wasn’t true. I imagine that waiting for three days felt like waiting an eternity for everyone else to see what they knew was going to happen. And I imagine actively choosing to stay in hope and belief made them feel impatient or crazy. Because believing without seeing is hard. Having battling thoughts and staying in faith can be confusing and unpleasant.
This fall, I’m going to have my first Off-Broadway production of one of my play—(un)conditional. I always believed this would happen but now that it’s growing closer, I have more questions and more confusion than ever before. There is so much newness to process at this level of artistic work. So many things feel different (positively and negatively) and so many things feel the same (positively and negatively). It’s wonderful. And exhausting. And I’m so exhausted sometimes it’s hard to feel or do much else.
I’ve found myself praying a lot. And more generally. What used to be prayers about getting a specific production like this have turned to “Guide me through this process,” and “Help me feel the passion I know I have but can’t access again.” The more I’ve prayed, the more I’ve felt inspired to open my laptop, the more my drive is beginning to return. But it’s returning differently. I don’t feel the urgency to crank out 30 pages every day and get things done to say I’m writing and feel like a writer. I’m working smarter and faster. I’m writing confidently and because I love it and with nothing to prove. It feels like the end of the reading says, “I have promised, and I will do it, says the LORD.” And it’s the best feeling.
Ali Keller is a writer and producer based in NYC. Her first Off-Broadway play will be premiering at Soho Playhouse in September of this year.
You can learn more about her here.