Lent

I thought I would give Lent a go this year, like I tell myself every year. But this year it has actually stuck. No alcohol. No chips. Sundays are a saving grace and had I known you could break Lent once a week before, I may have been more successful at it. But this 40 day desert experience has been beautiful. Small things I can’t quite put my finger on have shifted inside of me. In fact, I’m almost anxious of Lent ending. Do I have the self-discipline to let Lent open up new learnings outside of the Lenten season?

And then covid19. And we all gave up much more than we were intending to. Even the stuff that gave us life like church and community and intimacy. I feel more like a desert father (or mother) than I have ever experienced before… but with less wisdom and gratitude… and more anxiety and cynicism.

As Jesus spent 40 days in the desert being tempted by all of his ruminations. “Oh, just a little glass of wine during the week… who are you hurting, really? You’re in a pandemic for God-sake! If you don’t drink you’ll be overcome with emotions you can’t handle.” And maybe that’s what Lent is for me more than withholding alcohol: the ability to sit and be with it all. The sadness, the anger, the fear, the cynicism. To see it, to sit with it, and fall in love with the presence it has given me today.

For there is nothing else to do but to sit in this desert and wait.