Shoelaces

 “This is the Easter message, that awakening is possible, to the goodness of God, the sacredness of human life, the sisterhood and brotherhood of all.”

— Anne Lamott

When Peanut and I discussed the purpose of fasting for Lent, she immediately knew she wanted to fast from her Happy Meal. Once a week, just Peanut and I pick up lunch (her favorite, a happy meal) and bring it home and have a movie picnic in our living room. We both look forward to it.

She decided that she would remember each time she thought about the happy meal lunch to spend that time thinking about Jesus.

Every year I have a bit of struggle with what to embrace for Lent.

Some years I have fasted from foods, caffeine, social media, etc.

Other years, I have taken on something for Lent - a purposeful decluttering project, a connections challenge where I've made a personal contact every day of Lent, etc.

This year I decided that I would fast from spending. With the exception of necessary grocery items (and those are only things need to stretch what we already own into meals), I would not buy anything for the 46 days of Lent.

On day 1 I had to buy a pair of baseball pants. Out of the (what seems like hundreds) pairs of baseball pants we own, we did not have the "long white with a black stripe down the side" variety in his current size.

On day 2 the dog ate my shoe laces. He had chewed on them many times (while my shoes are on my feet, yes he's signed up for obedience evaluation soon) but on day 2 he full ripped them off. I could not tie my shoes.

While we definitely have enough money to buy shoelaces, I decided that my intent of Lent is to experience the sacrifice of learning to make do. Each time I want to purchase something to make my day easier, etc. - I'm going to remember the sacrifice of the cross and I'm not.

I found an old pair of shoes, took the shoe laces out, put them in these shoes - and kept on walking.

On day 3, my vacuum cleaner broke. I plugged it in, we were cruising with the vacuum (all the while Mo barking) and all of the sudden the power cut. Finished. Not ideal, but it's okay. We keep an old one in the basement to vacuum down there. I decided for the length of Lent, I could carry that one up/down the stairs as needed. A little extra exercise couldn't hurt.

Vacuum number two literally fell apart when I turned it on. The screws, the bottom, it whirred, it died.

REALLY?

As I carted the second vacuum out of the house, I jokingly though to myself "Perhaps Jesus wanted me to give up exercising and cleaning instead?"

Day 6 I took the dog to the prepaid grooming session I had scheduled and found out they would not groom him.

So my choices were to either hire someone else (and thus violate my no spend) or cut him myself until Lent is over.

So if you see my dog, just smile. Yes, his mother cut his hair.

Day 7 amazon delivered Peanut's upcoming bday present (ordered before the spending freeze of Lent) - and SD ran it over with the car. A sign that nothing is supposed to come into our house these 46 days?

I'm reminded today that fasting isn't supposed to be easy.

If we gave up something that was easy, it wouldn't draw us to the cross.

It's supposed to challenge us. It's supposed to come up more than once a day - we're supposed to feel the loss.

I'm learning a lot just 7 days in.

Like I may need to block amazon on my computer- it's way too easy to find what I "need" without taking the time to make sure I can't make do otherwise.

I put a chart on my fridge where I'm writing down every penny spent and where - accountability.

Mama Warriors, I read a book recently that suggested we fast one day a week.

Perhaps if taking on the full 40 days is too overwhelming, you can pick one day a week to refrain from something . Anything.

What could you give up to draw you closer to the cross?

Lent

 "Vulnerability is not weakness; it's our greatest measure of courage."

Last night Peanut and I attended the Ash Wednesday service at our church.

I debated taking her. There were no kid classes. She would have to sit with me.

Confession.

I like to church by myself.

Solo.

I can also eat in a restaurant by myself, see a movie by myself, the list goes on, but that's another conversation.

When I worship by myself, I can get lost in the act of worshipping. I take my shoes off. I let my feet feel the ground. I open my hands, turn my palms turn the sky to receive. For that one hour, I can (sometimes) turn off my overthinking mind and just be.

I hold a value that it's important for Peanut to experience church in various forms, so therefore I took her with me.

As I looked around the church in candlelight, I suddenly had this remembrance that Lent is dark.

From ashes you were made, and to ashes you shall return.

Is Lent too dark for kids?

The worship team began to sing and I looked over to see Peanut, palms up, loudly singing, eyes closed and I remembered, Peanut was made to worship.

In times of darkness.

In times of light.

Xman went to a youth event once in which the sermon was a hellfire and brimstone version of the gospel. He came home and commented that they never got to Jesus. Each time there was a focus on the evil of the world but never on the Savior.

Darkness but no light.

You have to learn about the darkness. It's inevitable.

BUT there is light.

Beautiful light.

I read once that we are Easter morning people living in a Good Friday world.

That's always stuck with me.

We want the light.

There is no light without darkness.

There's no resurrection without the cross.

Mama Warriors, I understand the idea of Lent is denominational (a conversation for another time) but I hope you spend time over the next few weeks preparing your heart for Easter.

You don't wake up Easter morning to pretty church clothes, baskets, or egg hunts without some preparation.

There's no Easter morning without Good Friday.

There's no light without darkness.

Ordinary Time

 "Half of the Christian year is called "ordinary time," a season of prayers and readings in which not much seems to happen, where holiness is marked by the seasons of nature - summer's growth and fall's harvest. No time of expectant wonder, no miraculous birth, no piercing light, no deep lament, no Resurrection triumph. Instead, these are the weeks when the church reads stories of Jesus teaching, healing , and eating, all that is familiar and familial - the motherly presence of Christ - just ordinary time."

A few weeks ago, in a sermon, the preacher mentioned how she was swept up and loved by a church. How she may not remember the specific Sunday school lessons but she remembered how they made her feel.

I've been swirling this idea around for the last few weeks.

I was raised in a church that made me feel unwelcome, unwanted, and unloved. We literally were asked to stop attending.

I (unknowingly) raised my own two big kids in the exact same environment.

We walk a story that shares that church does more damage than good.

I've struggled with gifting Peanut church in the little c sense because Jesus is more important to me than community.

We've landed in a place where I've asked the big questions. Where I've read the stance of the larger organization they support. Where the people where t-shirts that say "No perfect people." Where the preacher every single week says "ALL are welcome at Jesus' table."

I've put ordinary time above all the flashy things that attract us to churches.

Most importantly though I've churched with Peanut in our home, in our yard, at the park, at the grocery store, in her classes. All the places. I've showed Peanut Jesus in action.

He's not limited to Sunday mornings or Wednesday nights.

I need her association with loving Jesus to not be solely based on church.

Raising kids with a large age gap has been a learning curve.

Just this morning I shared this same thought with one of mine. Peanut will never remember the specific arguments they have, or things they did (or didn't do) together.

BUT she will remember how being around each of them makes her feel.

She'll associate that feeling with them always.

Mama Warriors, maybe you, like the 5 of us, came out of church feeling more damaged than loved.

I'm sorry.

We all 5 church differently. Peanut and I are the only two who church the same way each week. I've had to accept that all my people need to find the place/way that church doesn't feel damaging, doesn't feel legalistic, doesn't feel exclusive on their own.

There will come a time I'm sure, when Peanut is old enough to want to visit with friends and find her independence, where she too might church differently than me.

While I'll miss our Sunday mornings together, I want Peanut to always chose places that make her feel the love of Jesus authentically.

I want to gift her the freedom to own her own faith and to practice it.

Because then it's hers.