What should I give up for Lent?

I have the answer for you!  I’d like to share a short article I wrote for The Catholic Times last year:

“So . . . what are you giving up for Lent?”  The best all-time answer I’ve ever heard to that question comes from Fr. John Peter Cameron, editor of Magnificat: “Here’s what to give up for Lent: the doubt that goes, ‘I can never get closer to God because I’m too sinful, too flawed, too weak.’”  Lent really is not about giving up, but about receiving. Fr. John goes on to say: “Lent is not about lamenting our inadequacy.  Rather, it is a graced moment to receive from God what he is eager to give us so that we can live the friendship with him that he desires. . . .”

This approach requires a major change of attitude on most of our parts.  We are so geared up for what we should do for God, when what is uppermost in the Lord’s mind is his desire to draw near to us, to give himself to us.  If what we decide to give up would, in fact, encourage greater friendship with him, that would be one thing, but for many of us, we fall too readily into the following two categories. Either we succeed in doing what we’ve set out to do and just grow stronger in our pride and self-sufficiency, and in a real sense, further from God.  Or we fail and  grow less confident in God’s mercy.  “How could I expect him to show me mercy after I fail to do one simple thing like giving up chocolate for Lent? I mean, how hard is that?”

Of course, I’m not saying that self-discipline isn’t important or that chocolate in someone’s life may not indeed be a stumbling block in his relationship with God, but for so many of us, the main obstacle we face is our lack of confidence in God’s goodness and his love for us.  We hide from him, as Adam & Eve did after they sinned.  We think that we can’t come to him unless we’ve got everything together.  But notice God’s first words to them after their fall.  They were not: “What have you done?!” but “Where are you?” (Gen. 3:9)After listening to the serpent, Adam and Eve doubted his goodness rather than placing their trust in his unbounded mercy.  Otherwise, they would have run to him like the prodigal son to his father.  His first concern was the restoration of relationship with them.
St. Thérèse encourages us along these lines of trust: “Sanctity does not consist in this or that practice, it consists in a disposition of heart which makes us humble and little in the eyes of God, conscious of our weakness but boldly confident in his goodness as Father.” (emphasis added)

Again, I am not minimizing the seriousness of sin.  What I am saying is that the first step, and the most important one, is dealing with mistrust in the goodness of God toward us.

So this Lent, you might reconsider what you should give up.  Perhaps it should be mistrust or doubt of the Lord’s goodness towards you. Look at the obstacles in the way you think about your relationship with Him. Listen to the Father calling out to you: “Where are you?” If you’re hiding because of lack of confidence in His goodness, try just taking one small step toward Him.  Come out from behind the bushes of doubt. Put aside the sin of mistrust and you might be surprised to see Him running toward you with arms wide open.

Why? Why? Why?

[I was out of town and then came down with a nasty head cold . . . thus, my absence this past week.]

Today’s reading from Amy Carmichael’s Whispers of Power:

Mt 11.6 And blessed is he, who shall not be offended in Me.

All of us are sometimes troubled by questions.  Why is the secret of healing not opened more fully?  Why is that key not put into wise and loving hands?  Why does He whose touch has not lost its ancient power not come immediately and touch and heal?  Why have the wicked such awful power?  Why are we ourselves sometimes like the little ship on the sea of Galilee beaten by the winds?  And even after we have heard our dear Lord’s Peace, be still, why is it that there is not always instantly a great calm, a lasting calm?  Why do the winds return again?

We could go on forever, piling question on question.  Why?  Why?  Why?

But faith is not “trusting God when we understand His ways”–there is no need for faith then.  Faith is trusting when nothing is explained.  Faith rests under the Unexplained.  Faith enters into the deep places of our Lord’s words.  And blessed is he, who shall not be offended in Me.  Faith, having entered into those deep places, stays there in peace.

Re-reading such a good book

I am re-reading One Thousand Gifts for the third time–the second being immediately after I finished it the first time.  Have I told you how much this book has changed my life? 😉  And I keep coming across things I want to quote here . . . but it wouldn’t really be fair to Ann Voskamp for me to do that, would it?  If you haven’t read it yet, you really must.  I haven’t yet come across anyone who hasn’t been so glad to have read it.

Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.   ~Sarah Ban Breathnach

Look at the chickadee (Repost)

Note: every year I repost this poem because I still love it!

A beautiful snow last night and this morning a bird singing outside my window.  This brings to mind a poem by Jessica Powers about a chickadee in a snow storm.  There is always something to be learned from God’s creatures if we just take the time to look and ask Him to help us to really see.

Look at the Chickadee

I take my lesson from the chickadee
who in the storm
receives a special fire to keep him warm,
who in the dearth of a December day
can make the seed of a dead weed his stay,
so simple and so small,
and yet the hardiest hunter of them all.

The world is winter now and I who go
loving no venture half so much as snow,
in this white blinding desert have been sent
a most concise and charming argument.
To those who seek to flout austerity,
who have a doubt of God’s solicitude
for even the most trivial of His brood,
to those whose minds are chilled with misery
I have this brief audacious word to say:
look at the chickadee,
that small perennial singer of the earth,
who makes the week of a December day
the pivot of his mirth.

~Jessica Powers

It is bliss

I am re-reading Ida Friederike Görres’s book on St. Thérèse, The Hidden Face.  I read the sentence below this morning, a general statement about a happy childhood.  What struck me is that it is, in fact, the description of the experience God means for all of us to have as we grow into the stature of being His child.  It is such an excellent description of the love of God for us:

It is bliss simply to be someone’s child, child of a father, of a mother, living, moving and having its being in a love which is unmerited, unmeritable, anticipatory, unconditional and immutable.

No matter what our own experiences of our parents, this is still absolutely and unequivocally  true for each of us as a child of God the Father.   If you have a minute, read the sentence again slowly, pondering each of those words: “unmerited, unmeritable, anticipatory, unconditional and immutable.”  There is a lifetime of meditation there.  Let yourself taste a bit of the bliss.

The storehouse of our mind

When you find yourself in the middle of a trial, is there a verse from Scripture that wells up from your heart to sustain you?  I hope that is the case for you.  Amy Carmichael writes about the importance of filling the “storehouse of our mind” with the riches of the Scriptures so that we may find strength in time of need.

1 Cor 1.3  Blessed be God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies, and the God of all comfort.

In one of his letters, Adolph Monod tells how he found in his hardest moments that it was enough to take firm hold on a single promise.  It sustained him the the sorest difficulties.  He loved the words Father of Compassions, as 2 Corinthians 1.3 has it in French.

When one is in great pain or trouble, or caught suddenly by fierce temptation, it is the word of strength or comfort that is set deep in the memory that takes life.  It speaks in a new tone, and becomes to us at that moment more than we could have ever believed it would be.  John 14.26 explains this: But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost . . . He shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.

So let us fill the storehouse of our mind with the treasure of God’s word.  Every day offers opportunities.  When we go to bed tonight, let us think, “What treasure did I put in my storehouse today?”

” . . . slain with such fire of love”

“St. Catherine of Siena ‘speaks of the crucified Jesus as “slain with such fire of love. . . as seems insatiable.  Yet still he thirsts, as if saying: ‘I have greater ardor and desire and thirst for your salvation that I am able to show you, [even] with my Passion.’ ”  Catherine could only descrive the God she encountered as ‘crazed with love.'”  (from Mother Teresa’s Secret Fire by Fr. Joseph Langford)

Seeing ourselves through the eyes of God

Magnificat has added a monthly feature written by Heather King (Parched) commenting on a particular feast of the month.  I thought I would share an excerpt from her piece on the Presentation:

To present our experiences at the temple is to sacramentalize them.  To present our experiences is to recognize that all experience, from the smallest to the largest, has a supernatural dimension.  We offer our experiences on the altar of the fact that we are loved just as we are, and that everything that happens to us is an opportunity to draw closer to Christ.  We present ourselves at the temple because our lives, our work, our sacrifices are not ourown.

Before we present ourselves at the temple, we see ourselves through the eyes of the world.  After we present ourselves at the temple, we see ourselves through the eyes of God.

Outside of the temple, for example, I am an aging spinster, alone and unloved.  Inside, I am a woman rich in insight, wisdom, and friends.  I’m reminded that I have a unique and special mission.  Before we ‘present’ our drug-addicted son at the temple, we are crazy with worry.  We feel like failures as parents, that our life’s work has gone for naught.  After presenting him at the temple, we remember that we have given our very best, that love is never wasted or lost, that our child is in the hands of God.  In fact, that is exactly what Mary and Joseph did with Jesus.