Ten years ago, I entered Lent thinking that I was going to be in a wheelchair by age 40. Desperation drove me to radical change and, a few weeks after Easter, I took the first gritty painful steps towards a more surrendered life, body and soul. Ironically, it was the delicious (but not particularly nutritious) foods of the Easter celebration which pushed my body to rock bottom. I have never looked at “splurging” for great feasts in the same way again…
Is Lent about pushing our appetites to the door just until Easter? And then letting them in again with a happy embrace to erode our “healthy”? Thoughts for another time. But that Easter season…
I fought to be able to walk and eat and hope again. Easter became my penitential season of fasting and learning to reorder my appetites. Ten years later, I continue to grieve, fight, surrender, and rise by turns. Starting at the end (“I will die”) and working my way backwards (“How shall I now live?”) to a life more properly ordered both physically and spiritually.
Chronic illness can be a crutch or ladder. Like Lent. We don’t get total control. But we get to decide how to live well and move forward with purpose. Not that I’m particularly good at life, you understand. I would not choose to relive pivotal moments of change—I’m just not that strong—but they're necessary and I’m grateful.
Every single day is a gift. Every step. I don’t HAVE to make good choices… I GET TO.
That Lent changed me and I look at things differently now…
I don’t have to fast… I GET TO.
I don’t have to sacrifice… I GET TO.
I don’t have to discipline my appetites… I GET TO.
I don’t have to make good choices… I GET TO.
I don’t have to exercise… I GET TO.
I don’t have to surrender… I GET TO.
I don’t have to serve… I GET TO.
Do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy.” 1 Peter 1:10
Lent is ultimately about seeking union with Christ. On a practical level, that means prayers and service… and choosing to do the hard thing in the moment that needs doing. Detaching from outcome. Pursuing right ordered living.
We learn quickly that we can’t even put down the little cookie let alone face the scarier stuff. And this where Lent pierces our damnable egos…
“Take up your cross and follow me.”
First, we have to figure out how to let go of the cookie. Lent is an extraordinary opportunity to learn to stop kicking and screaming our way to a beautiful and liberated life and finally say:
“Yes, Lord… I GET TO."
Further thoughts on how to let go of cookies…
In the confessional years ago, I gave Father an earful about my frustrating attempts to conquer persistent sin:
“I’m here every week, Father. And nothing changes. I struggle, fight, lose… every time. And it’s getting more difficult to drag myself back here to confess.”
So Father told me a story about a a kid who played baseball but couldn’t hit the ball. The boy would work himself up and concentrate with everything he had, determined. Standing over the plate and ready to smash the ball out of the park, he’d say to himself:
“Don’t miss the ball. Don’t miss the ball. Don’t miss the ball.”
And then he’d swing. And miss. Every time.
Father said that the mind doesn’t calculate with negatives. Every time the boy stepped up to that plate, his mind only heard “… miss the ball.” Change only came when he focused on the goal instead of on missing the goal.
“Hit the ball. Hit the ball. Hit the ball.”
It is the same with giving up the cookie. Our thoughts are consumed with the cookie and so we will not be at rest until we have whatever it is which has taken the place of God alone. We must learn to replace the fixation on ourselves, our appetites, our negatives, with the One who can fill us and keep us satisfied.
“Don’t eat the cookie” can cause a fixation on eating the cookie.
The first step is probably just to get the thing out of the house. But when it is unavoidable, find a way to become full with acts of service, positive prayer, and doing the one thing in the moment most consonant with Love.
Jesus, satisfy me with Your Presence.
(Incidentally, we have a box in our house that contains treats and closed with a padlock. The struggle is real. There is always a way around obstacles to get to cookies. However, the padlock helps.)
We have a padlock on our stuff too! I thought we were weird.. ;]
--Maria