Ash Wednesday

The first day of Lent and I am home with a sick child. Pondering how to re-work the schedule of the next two days as he recovers from the fever of early morning, and pondering the meaning of Ash Wednesday. As a child, the ashy cross on my forehead was both a distinction and a sign of bad things to come. Smears of grey and black on your forehead just don't foretell a fairy tale ending.

Lent also meant giving up meat on Fridays and giving up desserts (except for Sunday nights, which are not officially part of Lent, not being counted in the 40 days before Easter). Going dessert-free was no fun, and I never saw how the lack of ice cream and cookies helped me in my pursuit of spiritual growth. Then again, I did not really pursue spiritual growth as a child, so at least I got in the habit of going without sweets.

As an adult I have continued the practice of giving up things desired: chocolate, coffee, etc. When you fast, you're supposed to think of God or a spiritual focus whenever you crave the given-up item, but mostly when I wanted chocolate,I just thought of chocolate. In the last four or five years I have not given up anything for Lent; my diet is so restricted already it seemed beside the point. I added morning prayers and some meditation last year, but I am still doing those, so what now?

Fortunately, my spiritual director came to the rescue by challenging me to give up anxiety for Lent. He asked me to think about what it would mean to give up anxiety. On the surface, it sounds great! Sure, I'll give up sweaty palms and late night do-overs, no problem. But on further reflection, I realize that giving up anxiety means letting go of all illusions of control. Stuck in traffic? Can't control it. Sick child? Can't control it. Foot in mouth remark made on the playground? Done and over, can't get it back. So, definitely a greater challenge than it seems. I think the payoff might be worth it, so I'm giving it a go. Will keep you posted . . .