It was a strange Ash Wednesday for me this year.
True, I did spend the usual quiet evening hour in stillness and intermittent soft singing... but I wasn't at church. I was in a dark bedroom, trying to lull my strong-willed son into the sleep he so desperately needed.
Instead of ashes across my forehead I got scratch marks across my cheek. He's a fighter, this one.
I haven't been thinking about what I'll give up for Lent. I've been wavering between self-pity over the sacrifices of my current season and pure wonder at the joy of it.
I think I'll allow myself the creature comforts this Lent - facebook and coffee and such. Lord knows I'll have enough built-in loneliness and exhaustion in these 40 days. The task, then, will be to turn to Jesus in all of it -- to let it be a joining in his loneliness, his aching bones, his fear and confusion and desperation. He walked those roads to lead me in them if I'll let him.
3 comments:
I'm speechless. This post was so from the depths of your heart. I believe you will look back on this season as the most significant lent ever... although it's hard to see that when you're in the midst. "Seek.His. Presence." is the word of the Lord for you. Loves!
Thanks for the encouragement Rachel! God is good. :)
I've been praying for you these past two days, since this post, and I keep thinking that you labored with your other two sons - 9 hours, 26 hours, whatever, however long it was - in the birthing room, and you're experiencing labor now, with your new son. It's just different. Maybe that will help?
And just think - you don't have to have an episiotomy. ;)
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