It was 35 degrees this morning and muddy everywhere. The snow is giving way, and the ground has that soft, messy feel where your boots want to stick and slip at the same time. Sister Mary Claire and I met Robert at the mailbox, and Sister carried Mini so she would keep her little feet clean for Church. Mini looked perfectly content in Sister’s arms, like she knew she was being protected from the mud on purpose.
On the way to Church we talked about today’s meditation from The Circling Year. It was about the Garden, when they came to take Jesus, and Peter drew his sword and struck the servant—Malchus—and cut off his ear. I can almost see it in my mind: Peter stepping forward so fast, his heart hot and brave, wanting to protect Our Lord the best way he knew how. Sister said it is a frightening thing, how love can be true and still become rough when it doesn’t listen.
Father LeRoy brought that right into his homily. He said Peter’s zeal was real—Peter loved Jesus—but Peter acted before he prayed. Father said that in Lent we are learning the difference between fighting for Jesus in our own way and following Jesus in His way. And Jesus did not praise the sword. He told Peter to put it away. Then, as if His Heart could not bear even one wound in the middle of His own sorrow, Jesus healed the ear that had been cut. Father said that is the lesson: when our temper, our quick words, or our “I’ll fix it right now” spirit hurts someone—even if we meant well—Jesus wants healing, not winning.
On the ride home with Robert, Sister and I kept talking about it. I told her I feel like Peter sometimes, especially when I think something is unfair. I want to jump in and fix it right away, and I feel strong in my mind, like that must be courage. Sister said courage is real, but Lent teaches courage with gentleness. She said, “Kathy, the Lord does not need our sharpness. He asks for our faithfulness.” Mini sat with us like part of the conversation, clean paws tucked up, looking from one face to the other.
I keep thinking about Jesus healing Malchus’ ear—how calm He was, how kind, even while He was being taken away. I want to be like that. I want my love to be more like His.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus,
When I feel quick and bold like Peter, please help me to listen first. Put Your gentle hand on my heart before I speak or act. Teach me to love You without sharpness, and to choose healing over winning. Make me brave in the right way—quiet, faithful, and kind.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
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