Lent never unfolds in the way I expect it too, internally or
externally. On an external level,
year after year, it seems as though the Church faces her most heated attacks as
we prepare for the celebration of our greatest Holy Day. If there’s going to be a large scale
attack on the Church it seems as if there’s a good chance it’s going to begin
in February, and unfold into March and April.
Then there’s the internal aspect. I don’t know why I always expect Lent to be this
Shiny-Beautiful-Time-of-Self-Denial-and-Spiritual-Growth and that over the
course of these special, set apart days, everything will go smoothly and my
more or less well laid plans will propel me into hours of quiet contemplation
and prayer. In my head, I see
myself peacefully attending daily Mass and pondering the life of our
Savior.
Then Ash Wednesday arrives and reality sets in.
My prayers are not miraculously more focused than they were
twenty-four hours earlier. The
girls don’t suddenly allow me to pay attention for a solid five minute segment
during Mass, and I haven’t attended daily (non-feast-day) Mass since we moved
to Florida, since the idea of wrangling Mae Bae by myself, while directing
Sadie’s energy towards being silent, is about as appealing as getting a filling
without novacain (Mae’s at that difficult Mass-going phase that many parents
just pray passes quickly).
In hindsight, I can’t help but be embarrassed when I look
back on my pre-Lenten pondering because it seems coated in pride. Every idea I had for Lenten sacrifice,
just seemed “too easy.” They were
all things I’d done before and they just seemed too “small.” I wanted to do something big, something
difficult… something demanding.
Yet as I sat in the chapel at Mass on the Sunday before my
blogging break, attending on my own for the first time in nearly four years
(since the girls were still sick and Paul had gone to the vigil Mass), I found
myself looking back on the previous days with a sigh. I’d already failed in my Lenten goals multiple times. Things that were “small” and “easy”
suddenly seemed nearly impossible.
I felt like a sluggish and lazy failure. I was embarrassed that things that should have been “small” had
left me feeling utterly defeated during low moments and uncomfortably “off” on
my “better” days.
Because even on the days when I’d done everything that I
“should” have done, even after I’d checked every “to do” item off my list, I
still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it,
and the only word I could really use to describe it was “uncomfortable.”
Yet as I sat in Mass a little over a week ago, several
thoughts occurred to me. The first
was that maybe that “uncomfortable” feeling, wasn’t a bad thing at all. As much as I have a peaceful idealized
vision of Lent in my head, the gritty reality of growth seldom matches up with
descriptions of what is “easy” and the periods where I’ve found myself feeling
as though I am being draw closer to God are seldom moments that fit my own
overly physically based definition of “peaceful.”
Secondly came a rapidly spreading embarrassment in my own
desire to do something “big” this year, when ultimately, even my smallest goals
felt at times to be beyond me. The
realization that I’d been relying on my own strength while making grand goals
was suddenly strikingly clear. I’d
been so focused on what I was going to do, that I’d spent very little time even
attempting to listen for and discern what God might want from me. These thoughts, flooding in all at once,
were humbling to say the least.
And so, it is with tiny, baby steps that I’m moving forward
this Lent. It is with the
knowledge that my own strength, even in little things, is very small and that
relying on that strength will not carry me in the direction I need to be
heading as each week brings us closer to the Easter season.
Sounds like a successful lent to me. Humility is never an easy virtue and yet is essential to every other virtue. As a mom, your daily work with your children is a constant source of spiritual growth, every Mass you struggle though, every prayer time that is interrupted, every opportunity where their antics made you feel your efforts were failing and yet also exposed them to your example of trying anyway and doing anyway because God is worth the effort-- every bit of this is part of Lent too.
ReplyDeleteI set my goal but no longer expect that I will keep them perfectly. This year I got sick and missed three days of my prayers, so I made them up, caught up with the rest of the people, and am not kicking myself for it. It is about making the goal and working toward whatever growth it will bring but understanding that God will either grant the successful completion to me or not, as He wills. It is all OK and I keep plugging along.
So keep plugging along--you really are doing OK.
Cam, for a couple of years now I've taken the additive approach (rather than the give up) approach to Lent for the most part. It's not totally the case because we do pretty much give up meat for Lent (other than Sundays and St. Patrick's Day). It had been going pretty well until this weekend when I went to a conference that required a very early rising and late going to bed. I managed to get things in (albeit in a pretty abbreviated fashion yesterday). What it made me realize is how much easier it really should be on most days for me. I'm rarely that busy overall, and yet there are days that I find myself still with the Office of Readings to do at 6 at night. I think that sometimes it's good to have a bad day to realize what a normal day really affords us.
ReplyDeleteI have been struggling with discouragement this Lent over the political situation. The readings yesterday, so lifted my heart. It made me remember once again that God truly is in control. The good thing for me about doing the readings is that it keeps pulling my focus back to where it belongs. The other additive thing is a particular prayer sacrifice that is also making me remember that this particular situation is in God's hands not mine.
I think I'm realizing for the first time that Lent is not just a time when we give things to God, but a time when he gives gifts to us as well.
Now what I'd like to know is why is it that the Fridays of Lent (when I'm truly obliged to abstain from meat) are the only days of Lent where it's difficult, not only is the temptation greater, but this weekend the logistics were actually more difficult as well.