When we face a grievous loss – of a loved one, a job, a marriage, or health – depression can be an inevitable and appropriate response, providing a time-out to allow for healing. But what if one responded to such a loss with a casual yawn, as if none of it had mattered in the first place? That is the horror of acedia…

(Kathleen Norris, Acedia & me: New York, Riverhead Books, 2008, pp.23-24)

Acedia is the noonday demon, the soul on novocain. The clock seems to stop, the day stretches out forever as a vast wasteland of boredom. Work is a waste of time, other people uncaring, and everything good is somewhere else. Why bother with any of it? Listlessness sets in. This demon is subtle, bringing with it the delusion that vacating the present life situation isn’t only desirable, but noble. The question then arises: don’t I owe it to myself to leave behind this meaningless life?

Sometimes, things need to change. A harmful situation should be left immediately, but acedia isn’t about that. Acedia is throwing away the good and holy life God has provided. Acedia is not moving toward something good, it’s seeing everything good in the here and now as useless and boring. The “if only” thoughts arrive: if only I had a more caring spouse, if only others recognized my gifts, if only this place had a better view and congenial neighbors…A change of scenery won’t help because acedia lives in the discontented soul, not in the external location.

Cullen Story, professor and extraordinary pastor, used to give students and ministers a way to distinguish between acedia’s temptation to leave a life situation and God’s call to move forward: Until you love the location and people God has given you, you aren’t ready to leave.

A few years back, my husband Dave and I attended a party where I worked. Dave is a great listener, so I wasn’t surprised others talked to him about their lives, including my friend and co-teacher, Bill. The next morning, Bill said about Dave, “I felt worthwhile in his presence.”

My friend Heidi creates a welcoming space for youth at church and on mission trips. Young people tell her about their dreams and their hurts, and they share their questions about God and life with her – something they don’t do with many people. Knowing someone’s life story is a gift, and not everyone is worthy of that gift.

Gentleness is subtle, underrated and sometimes overlooked. Gentle spirits create a quiet, accepting space for others. They deepen the spiritual lives of others simply by being present. It’s hard to put into words, but here is my best attempt:

When someone affirms your true worth and honors your life story without saying a word, you are in the gracious presence of a gentle spirit.