Lent for Life

Image: David Castillo Dominici / freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=3062

I was whining to my mother the other day, “I really sucked at Lent this year.”

After I took a harder look at the commitments I had made and how I had been doing, I realized I was perhaps being overly critical – which is common when Achiever and Maximizer are in your ‘Top Five’ strengths.

Even so, I couldn’t shake a woe-is-me feeling about Lent. Then it struck me; in year’s past I had given up things. I would go 40 days without beer or pizza (no small act of will) as a testament to my love of God and a desire to grow closer to Him. This year I had focused less on sacrifice and more on behaviors and actions that I hoped would become habitual, like praying the rosary or seeking to see Jesus in others.

Historically I was accustomed to a jolt of energy in the last week of Lent. A feeling much like nearing the end of a laborious workout. But building habits doesn’t have a finish line. And when one of your Lenten goals is to dissolve pride, a cry-baby ego asking for a pat on the back was proof that I would need much more than just another week to make good on what I’ve promised God.

So while I’ve been able to enjoy pizza and beer, it appears I’m taking the extended Lent course. And my ego will have to do without the high five, because Lent (and Life) simply isn’t about me.

People Watching: A Slideshow of God’s Grace

 

Photo Credit: xedos4 from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’m the kind of gal who has no problem sitting at a bar by myself or eating in a restaurant alone. Truth be told, I may actually prefer it because I can then indulge in one of my favorite pastimes: people watching.

It’s not just the quirky behaviors of others that mesmerize me; I often fixate on the staggering diversity of physical features within the human species. Tall people and squat people and pointy-nosed people, oh my!

However, the danger in this sport is its gateway nature, potentially leading straight into judgment. For me, it’s hard to stop at the act of observation and not continue on to pass a critique. While I may not be saying, “OMG, Becky. Look at her butt, it’s like so out there!” I do often find myself thinking: “What a strange…” or “How weird?” or, “Isn’t that goofy-looking!” And it’s second nature; I do it automatically.

Heck, even at mass the corner of my eye (while I’m supposedly deep in prayer) is monitoring the aisle and wondering, “Who belongs to those squishy ankles?” “Why would she wear such inappropriate heels to church?” “Doesn’t he know it’s 40 degrees outside? Who wears sandals in this weather?!”

Then the other day, I felt a gentle nudge from God. Not a wrathful God warning me about the ills of passing judgment. But a quiet, compassionate God who reminded me I don’t know everything. And how often do we humans forget that!

Me, the one who can be so accepting of diversity in skin color or religion or sexual orientation couldn’t get out of my own way to also be accepting of people with “funny walks” or “weird eyes that don’t match” or “triangle butts.” I had to question why I would let somebody’s derriere stand in the way of my closeness to God.

Responding to that gentle urging, I started to look anew at one of my favorite hobbies. Sort of like runners trading in their cushioned kicks for a barefoot jaunt, I decided to use my people watching to appreciate the glory, grace and creativity of God. Look at all the types of people He made, every single one unique. Look at all the different bums! And somehow, this release of judgment on others, this openness to all shapes and sizes has made my inner critic a bit more compassionate as well. Maybe even a bit more grateful that God gave me a body shaped exactly like this, for He knew it was perfect in every way for the tasks He was going to ask of me. Which includes being accepting of others.

Thank you God, for whatever is going to happen.

I sat in my mindfulness yoga class today reflecting on the experience of Lent. In the Catholic tradition, this is a time to renew our baptismal promises by rooting out sin in our lives and to experience a deeper conversion to a God-ly life through penance. It can be a sorrowful and gloomy 40 days.

Often times we hear that life is about the journey and not the destination. However, during this Lenten journey of self-scrutiny and soul-tidying perhaps we may do ourselves a favor by instead focusing on the destination. And the beautiful miracle of faith, at least for me, is knowing that the destination is far more magical and wonderful than anything I could possibly imagine sitting here in my current soul-dusty state. How many times has God’s answer to a prayer been more inventive and awesome than what you could have ever conceived? So with experience and faith as my security, I have to believe that wherever my soul is on Easter, it’s going to be a life greater and fuller than anything I can conjure.

So yes, the Lenten journey is no easy task. It is the burden of a cross, in fact. But the reward for all that hard work is a life rich in blessings beyond our wildest dreaming. This Lent, I’m going to do the hard work that carries me through the journey but I think I will steady my focus on the destination. And I may not be surprised to find that it has made the journey joyful.