Not-so-ordinary time

Green is the colour
Ordinary time is is the game
We're all together
And praying is our aim

For those of you familiar with the tune for which I changed the lyrics, you're most welcome for getting that stuck in your head until lent. For those of you not familiar with the song, take a listen. You're welcome too.

The Catholic Church's liturgical year is officially in ordinary time. It's time to get out the green. A parish priest once stated that green is appropriate for ordinary time because in nature, green represents growth. Springtime comes, everything turns green, grows and flourishes. So too should our faith—minus the turning green part.

Ordinary time is when we follow the progression of Jesus's ministry toward its ultimate goal of the resurrection. We get a glimpse, through the Gospel writers, into the ordinary, everyday life of Jesus, his followers and his ministry.

Hold it a minute. Jesus and ordinary don't really fit. I don't know about your life, but miraculous healings, turning water into wine, preaching to crowds numbering in the thousands that just won't leave you alone, feeding said thousands with a paltry snack, raising people from the dead, and walking on water are not ordinary occurrences in my neck of the woods. Well, maybe the walking on water part is, but there is two feet of ice on top of the water when we do it.

These are pretty extraordinary things, performed by an extraordinary person. And the beauty of the incarnation is that these incredibly extraordinary things have become our shared reality. Not only that, we are called to live the extraordinary through the gift of the Holy Spirit. Not only that, we are called adopted sons and daughters of God through Christ (cf Rom 8:14). Extraordinary!

Ordinary time isn't just filler between Christmas and Lent, or Easter and Advent. It's a time for us to answer what Blessed Pope John Paul II called our universal call to holiness. It's a time to use the ordinary events of life as chances to grow in our faith. It's a time to turn ordinary circumstances into extraordinary opportunities for holiness and service.

As Catholics, there's not much ordinary about ordinary time.

Restless

I'm feeling a little restless. OK, a lot restless. OK, a little stir-crazy.

The temperature this morning was -45C with the windchill (someone at work said that we were colder than Mars). This is after a December that saw an average temperature of -20C. At these extreme temperatures I don't leave the house more than I have to. I recognize writing this perpetuates every stereotype about the frigid Great White North, but it's not usually this cold for this long. Sure, we can brag, "That's what makes us prairie folk tough." But who really wants to be able to brag about freezing your extremities in nanoseconds?

The cold weather is keeping the kids inside too. Have I ever mentioned our kids are loud? I know, all kids are loud. I'm talking born without a volume control permanently stuck on 10 louder than a 747 and Pearl Jam concert in a gymnasium kinda loud. Oh, how I long for the children to play outside!

We affectionately call this restless feeling cabin fever, and it usually hits in February or March, near the end of a long winter. Being cooped-up so long so early has me feeling restless—I want to get out and enjoy the snow, go skating, point the toboggan downhill and go for a ride, even just go for a walk down by the river.

We know there are links to cabin fever, or seasonal affective disorder, and vitamin D. For some reason, our body cannot absorb enough vitamin D from the sun through 17 layers of thermal polyester, wool and Gore-Tex. Light therapy can also help clear up those winter blues. There are special lights—I swear I am not making this up—that can help just by spending time each day in front of them.

My restlessness has St. Augustine's famous quote, "Our hearts are restless until they rest in you," running through my mind. As I endure my physical restlessness, I ponder my soul's restlessness too.

The first thing that comes to mind is a question: is my soul restless for God? If it's not, that might indicate a problem, possibly spiritual aridity or worse, indifference. If it is, that is a good thing. Just like my cabin fever indicates I long for some outdoor activity in my life, my spiritual restlessness indicates I need some more spiritual activity in my life. It lets me know I need more God, more of His love, more of His grace, more of His mercy and forgiveness in my life. It reminds me I must continuously strive for holiness.

Just like the right nutrients, like vitamin D, can help seasonal restlessness, the right nutrients, like Jesus in the sacraments—especially Eucharist—go a long way to eliminate the spiritual blues.

Just like spending time in front of a special light can help alleviate symptoms, spending time basking in the light of Christ (aka prayer) can lift one's spirits and strengthen one's resolve.

Even though I may not be able to feed my physical restlessness with some outdoor activity longer than a 15 second dash to the car, I know I can take care of my spiritual restlessness by spending some time feeding my relationship with God.

May our souls find rest in Him!