Take My Life

Growing up immersed in the Catholicism, Lent was one of three biggie seasons for us kids. Enrolled in parochial school practically my entire life, the months before Easter were full of rituals meant to prepare us for Easter Sunday, the most glorious, holy, and special day in the Catholic Church. For me and my siblings, however, Lent meant a List.

This List, created by me, and most of my classmates at St. Louise Catholic School, was devised as a way for us to remember all the things we were not supposed to do during Lent. Want that hamburger on Friday? Nope. A friend is having a sleepover on Saturday night? Sorry, can't miss Sunday Mass during Lent. But worst of all, we had to give up something; something big, like refraining from candy, or watching TV, or bugging your parents for new bell bottom jeans. Lent as a child meant a world of "don'ts", of "no ways", and "can't dos". Even now I feel guilt if I eat anything but tuna casserole on Friday for fear Sister Helen Francis will rise from her grave and haunt my eternal digestion.

I experienced something different last night. Ash Wednesday service at Trinity was the first time I had ever heard about what I might DO during Lent, instead of what I WILL NOT.

"Engagement", I believe, was the term used. Acts of stewardship, service, studying the scripture, sharing my faith with others, even hosting a party, for heaven's sake. Whoa. This is not the Lent I know. Some of the suggestions are still difficult for an introvert such as myself who finds ways to hide behind a laptop screen and emote virtually, but nearly all of them seem much more attainable and sustainable because of their positive nature than the knuckle-rapping no-no's of my youth.

It's much, much more comfortable to be uncomfortable this year. What were the words of a song we sang together? "Take my mind, transform it...Take my will, conform it...to yours, to yours, to yours...

That's what He wants from us.