Fast failure

How quickly rituals meant to remind of Christ become burdensome. I see the hypocrite, the pharisee in myself - If I'm abstaining from coffee, can I use a double shot to kick a migraine or do I suffer on under the guise of fasting? If I'm abstaining from drinking milk, can I eat pudding? Seeing my thoughts in print, I'm embarrassed by my pettiness.

This lent tradition, giving up to gain Christ, replacing a comfort with the Spirit's comfort, has been mostly about me. Where I will draw the line. How much I want a cup of coffee. How much I wish I had ignored the uncomfortable fasting season altogether.

Hardly the spiritual conquest I was hoping for.

Spiritual conquest - the root of my fast failure. I wasn't hoping to glorify God, not really. I was hoping for a grand spiritual experience, to have a primed and ready heart. It sounds so good, but how can I have a heart prepared to celebrate Jesus if he isn't my focus? I am the hypocrite disfiguring my face, looking gloomy and exhausted, to show my fasting to the world. I grossly miss the point.

So my Lent season has been a series of disappointments. I don't feel focused on Christ. If anything, I'm more obsessed with myself. I chose coffee because I depend on it for self-control and strength. Just let momma finish this cup, and I'll be a better momma. promise.  In a small way, I use a latte to replace the Holy Spirit.

I thought to give it up in order to be made perfect in weakness. Instead my weakness has been highlighted. Not an addiction to caffeine, but the desire to control my weakness, to mask my selfishness with extra energy.

3 weeks passed in Lent. 3 weeks left to Lent. A half time evaluation, and I see the heavy burden I have tied on myself. Not the hardship of giving up my ritualistic latte break. The heart that believed I could prepare myself, force my way into God's presence through a fast. Have I not already been given access? His burden is light because He carried it all. He shouldered my burden under the weight of a wooden cross and crucified my sin with his blood. By his wounds, I am healed.

That's what I'm supposed to remember during Lent.

do one... Lent

I'm late to post about Lent. Two days down. But the post didn't materialize yesterday. Migraine halo around most of my memories. My thoughts never composed. Even today, I'm not promising brilliance, even coherence. Please show grace. My head is still fuzzy from a day and night of pain and strong drugs.

"See one. Do one. Teach one." The learning strategy of Jesus with the disciples. See the God-given Truth. Live the Good News. Spread the Gospel. Repeat. Over and over until no one extinguishes without hearing.

I love to see, hear, learn. Let me read for hours. Listen to a dozen podcasts. Debate as long as the coffee is still warm. I love to tell people what I've learned, pass on truth. Where I fail: doing. Much easier to identify truth for others, rather than apply it to my own heart. I am the idiot with the log in her eye trying to point out specks.

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. James 1:22

I don't want to observe Easter this year. Watch it come and go. I want to do. Make Easter my life. Lent, fasting and meditation, a daily reminder to set my face toward Jerusalem. Luke 9:51

As a child, we practiced, and I missed the point, so decided it was pointless. I assumed the practice, not my heart, must be flawed.

But I was wrong. Lent is meant to prepare for Easter, to remind and celebrate Christ's final weeks on Earth so that the Resurrection doesn't pass by, just another Sunday.

 Our mantel piece reminders are in place to help our family walk toward the Cross. The weekly meditations and readings are taken from the Mosaic Bible.