Yesterday we watched a movie called "The Last Black Man in San Francisco". I really enjoyed it. There were all sorts of themes going on but the one I noticed was about lies. I cannot say much more without giving away the plot, but these lies which we tell ourselves in order to make our lives have meaning.
I think, for many people right now, the sense of holding onto a safe narrative of ourselves is being challenged. We might be seeing our edges which, at a different time, we would be able to cover with a story which is comfortable to us. One of the journeys of any Lent is to learn where our raggedness is and to ask God to come to that place.
As doubts and fears whirl around it might be worth noticing, rather than becoming captive to, those places in which we are doubtful, angry and anxious - not to dwell on them, but simply to acknowledge our edges.
Edges are noxious when we squash them or ignore them. In this time of the desert, we are going to notice them more, we can choose whether to construct an elaborate narrative where they are the exception to who we are, or a real one where they are a part of who we are, a part into which we can invite divine grace, not for a momentary miracle, but for fuel for the journey.