Skip to main content

It's only the second week of Lent???

I opened up my prayer book this morning, and the thing that caught my eye was next to the day's date:  "Thursday of the Second Week of Lent".  Really??  It's only the second week???

Lent is only 40 days.  40 days isn't much, right?  It always seems do-able.  The week before Ash Wednesday, you're picking out what you're gonna give up, looking at the Stations of the Cross schedule - yeah, you can do this.

Then the reality of Lent takes hold.  You decided to give up Diet Coke, and now have a permanent headache, not to mention a constant craving every time you pass McDonald's.  You get a vicious head cold.  Soccer starts for your ten year old, and you're out in 40 degree weather watching him practice, cheering "Good job, honey" when you'd rather be --- anywhere else.

You know that Lent is supposed to be about getting closer to God - becoming the better person God created you to be.  You know that the prayer and fasting is supposed to focus you on that relationship.  Yet, here we are, two weeks in and all we can think is,  "It's only the second week of Lent??  For cryin' out loud...."

This is one of the reasons that Lent is 40 days long.  Because, the Church, in her infinite wisdom, knows that most of us can be holy and passionate for a week.  It's the second week where we start to lose it, and the third week where we're really tempted to just get the stupid Diet Coke and drink it already.  It's tough.  It's supposed to be tough.  It's not hanging-on-a-cross tough  - Christ made sure we didn't have to do that, but it's human tough. 

So, I'll tell you what I'm telling myself:  suck it up, hang tough and finish the game.  Lent is hard - pray harder.

Comments

  1. 'Lent is hard - pray harder' lol. Love it!
    p.s. I added you to the Adoptio blog roll!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

I love comments, even if you don't agree, but please don't leave anonymous posts. A well-mannered reader leaves a name!

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to "end run" God

If you're a football fan, you know what an end run is. From Merriam-Webster:
a football play in which the ballcarrier attempts to run wide around the end of the line We try to "end run" God a lot. I do. I figure I know better. I've got this - no need to worry the Big Guy about such a trivial thing.

Of course, it never works.

Like the puppy above, when we try and evade the tough obstacle (even though we KNOW we will eventually have to do it), we end up - well, off in the bushes.

But oh! How I wished my way worked. I'd love to take a flying leap and land smoothly and gracefully. People would be in awe, as if watching Simone Biles nail a balance beam routine that no one else would even attempt. I would shyly look down and blush - just lightly - and acknowledge (But humbly! Oh so humbly!) my achievement.

But no: I am the one pulling myself out of the bushes, scratches all over my legs and twigs in my hair. I'd hear that gentle but loving voice of God saying, &quo…

So close to Jesus

This past Sunday, at Mass, Dear Husband and I had the great good fortune of having a dad, toddler and infant sit next to us in the front pew.

"Good fortune?" you say. Sounds horrible. Kids are so distracting. Put 'em in the nursery.

Nope. We sit up in the front pew, and always invite parents with young kids to come and sit with us. Having raised 5 hyper kids, we can pretty much ignore anything, plus kids do much better when they can see what's going on.

I have to admit, I wanted the toddler to act up a bit so I could whisper to the dad, "I'll watch the baby if you have to take him out."

Instead, we saw something rather remarkable.

Oh, the toddler (not quite 2) was a toddler. He was a bit anty. He wasn't quite sure that he liked seeing his mommy in front, cantoring, where he couldn't get to her. He whined and fussed a bit.

But during the Consecration, his enormous blue eyes locked onto the priest. That baby boy saw Jesus up there. You could just…

Fading Into Friday

It's been a long week. Monday was just ... bad. I ticked off our IT guy at work by opening up one of those d*%$ emails that as soon as you click on it, you think, "Oops." So I trotted over to his office, and he promptly yelled at me. Like I was a child. Or stupid. Or a stupid child.

This was after I found out that every imaginable driving route from my home to office and back home again is under construction. Can't get there from her. Orange barrels. Must as well sleep in the office.
This, combined with the fact that I am now the ONLY person on the planet who stills checks their blind spot before changing lanes, makes me want to quit my job and go live in a yurt.

Our health insurance company sent us these gloom and doom letters that Dear Hubby and I HAD to go online and fill out a health assessment NOW or OUR INSURANCE WOULD BE CANCELLED!!! They were SERIOUS! So, I went online Wednesday. Their system was down for maintenance.

Tried again yesterday. I swear I could n…