Creature Bug

Small Surrenders

I thought about not observing Lent this year. Not because I suddenly found it unimportant, but mostly because I just wasn't in the mood. A lame reason, I know.

As Ash Wednesday approached, I found myself whining, "This whole school year is a sacrifice. Do I really need to take on the burden of sacrificing something else?" You didn't realize I was such a martyr, did you? A wallowing, self-pitying martyr. Meh.

Wednesday came and went, and I still rebelled against observing it. Next year, I thought. When my life is easier, when my thoughts are more coherent. To put it bluntly, I was clarifying my faith journey in my own terms: I'll be ready to be spiritual when I feel like it, thankyouverymuch.

Then someone asked me, "What are you giving up for Lent this year?" and the very question settled heavy on my heart. All the changes this year has brought me aren't really sacrifices. They're just changes. They're transitions. I haven't surrendered much of anything. It is precisely because of how I feel--or lack thereof--that Lent is important for me this year. Now, more than ever, I should be asking myself how well is my Christian life functioning? How well do I love others? In the midst of this upheaval, what is God teaching me? And do I rejoice in those lessons?

I can tell you that my ability to rejoice hasn't been strong these last few months. If the measure of true character is what happens to you when life isn't easy...well, let's say that my character still needs work.

Even though Lent means different things to different people--an archaic tradition, a religious observance, a ritual of superstition--I like to think it's an appropriate time to ask the important questions, to reflect, to see the big picture, particularly as we move towards Easter Sunday. I'm realizing bit by bit, it's about making adjustments in my attitude, however minor or major. It's about being deliberate in making a change.

This year, when I asked myself what needed to change, my first response was, "I'm living in change, and that's good enough, darn it."

Then I was reminded to ask again. What needs to change? And the answer was quite apparent.

I do.

Feeding the soul

 

I had a light bulb moment today.

Our usual routine is to be up in Washington on the weekends, but this weekend brought us back to town for a birthday party on Saturday night. We were looking forward to this weekend because not only did we get to connect with our friends on Saturday, but it meant we would be able to attend our church this morning.

For the past 11 years, we have attended the same church. It's a place where I have heard truth, knelt in prayer, wept in repentance, felt mercy poured out on me. The people of this church have brought me food when I was in the hospital delivering a baby, encouraged me when I was heartbroken, loved and prayed over both my daughters. I have stood on the stage of this church as my babies--and our roles as new parents--were dedicated to the Lord.

Whenever we drive past our church, Sydney is faithful to call out, "There's our church!" and she and Jules cheer wildly. I do too.

Now, however, with us spending our weekends 70 miles away, we have started the search for a new church. We have to remember that there is no church exactly like the one we're coming from, with friends and memories already built in. Our search hasn't been too painful. Already, we have plans to revisit one that seemed like a good fit, and where we were blessed to be sitting by a kind and encouraging heart (Hi Tamara!). 

Searching is hard work, though, especially since we come from a place that we love. Some Sundays I feel like looking for a new church is like looking for a new dentist, except that one tends to the teeth, while the other tends to the soul. It's all a bit nerve wracking, and you don't want to commit without knowing how they handle their responsibilities, particularly since the effects can be quite noticeable.

What was not so noticeable to me, until this morning, is how much I rely on Sundays. Sure, my faith is not limited to a church experience, nor do I believe that God is contained to a building. Even still, I need Sundays. I need to hear the strains of music lifted to the heavens, the thoughtful words from our pastor, the familiar faces greeting us at the door. My soul was starving for that connection, and as I look back over the past month I can see how the hunger pangs were evident.

When I walked through the sanctuary doors this morning, the light bulb lit: the feeling of relief, the lightness of step, the release of tension from my shoulders. The pangs subsided, and peace filled my heart. This is what I had been missing from the last four weeks.

I am confident we will find a church in Washington. Until we do, I am so thankful we have a place where we can return and feel at home.

Week 37: A Week Later

I thought with this super duper wireless internet I'd have all this extra time to post and chat and dawdle on the computer. You know, waste the day away writing pithy sayings or whatever while Sydney plays contentedly on the floor. And here I didn't even get a chance to post on Valentine's Day (hope you all had a lovely one). Sydneykins and I met Jason for a Valentine's lunch in the Starbucks cafe at Safeway (a grocery store). Not exactly romantic, but any meal with a latte is a good meal for me. It was the best we could do since he had a basketball meeting at night. (Speaking of which, his last regular game was Friday. But his team qualified for league playoffs, and have a good chance of state playoffs. Oh....*sigh*... goody.) 

Yes, so where'd all my extra time go? Maybe it's because I gave up chocolate that's made me delusional. What's that, you say? Who's talking about giving up chocolate?

That'd be me. The one who eats chocolate every day.

Well, after reading several of my favorite blogs write about what they were giving up for Lent I got inspired. I'm not Catholic, but I figured I could do it anyway. I started a little bit late (Thursday evening) because I hadn't really thought about observing Lent this year. Plus, I had to make sure that I cleaned out every bit of chocolate in my house. No sense dooming myself from the start.

But enough about chocolate...more important stuff has been going on. Like the fact that I got through my presentation in my Irish lit class. I gave a 25 minute lecture on this article last Wednesday (about the music motif in the novel Grace Notes). Normally presentations are no big deal for me, but considering how emotional I've been since losing Gramps, I was afraid I would have trouble focusing. The professor of the class gave me the option of presenting later, but I just needed to get through it and be done with it.

And while I was working hard on my presentation -- feeling stressed out, feeling emotional, and wondering how I would make it through -- I paused to discover little miss playing peek a boo by herself.

She even does it while she's sitting in her car seat. And if that weren't cute enough, on Saturday she learned to clap. She will even stand all by herself and clap...for about six seconds before tumbling over backward.

Of course, when I took her to the mall yesterday to get her pictures taken she would have nothing to do with her pink peek-a-boo blanket. Fortunately we got a nice shot of her showing off those two teeth coming in (which I'll post later).

All right, homework to do. Baby to feed. Laundry to fold.