Lent Blog

Written by Lindsay Hampton...




This will be my first year to 'do' lent. Growing up, I knew what lent was, but never really understood why it was practiced. I guess I'm still working on figuring that out, really. When I was younger and the topic of lent would come up, I would breathe a quiet sigh of relief, because 'we' (the tradition of faith I grew up in and have in adulthood swiftly abandoned) didn't 'do' that. So not only did I not have to deny myself of some wonderful worldly pleasure for six weeks, I also didn't have to think about it or ponder the idea that maybe I should.

And now here I am, doing that, and I'm still not exactly sure why. maybe because it's because I want to prove to myself that it is possible to experience God in ways that are outside the traditions and ideologies that grew up with. Maybe it's because all my friends are doing it. Whatever the reason, I knew as lent was approaching that I wanted to participate this year. The day that I realized it was fast approaching and I needed to decide on my act of self denial, I was already sort of grumpy. I was at work and indulging in a little self pity, and that quickly turned to wanting to indulge in something else. I was suddenly craving some good old fashioned southern comfort food. I wanted pot roast.

Immediately, I knew I had to have pot roast for lunch. The more I thought about it the more deeply the craving set in. It took up residence in my appetite. That's sort of ridiculous, I know. But I have this problem. I want what I want when I want it. To say that this problem has much bigger and messier manifestations than what I eat for lunch is a grave understatement. No matter how impractical, I want it deeply. I cannot be swayed by logic. I just want what I want.

So I went to The Black Eyed Pea for lunch. It was good. It was friggin delicious, actually. But I knew it wasn't as good as the crock pot recipe my mom made, that I could have easily set up on my lunch hour and enjoyed for dinner. So as you tend to do when you accept cheap substitutes, I felt a little cheated.

Last year I decided on a tattoo on my leg. It has a candle and an hourglass, with banners swirling around a lush garden of roses that read "love is patient- life is short." Two polarizing but equally true statements to remind me that some things are worth waiting for and some are not. I was hoping that some how the act of having these words carved into my skin would somehow make this wisdom my own. That I would absorb these words and they would become a beautiful part of who I am. And I sort of feel like that's working, but not surprisingly it's taking longer than I'd like.

This year for lent I decided to give up eating out. To sacrifice the convenience of immediate gratification in hopes of finding something more lasting. I know it will be hard, but I don't want approach the Lenten season with a half-hearted commitment. Go big or go home, right? I don't know if I will come out of the season with any spiritual awakenings or epiphanies on practicing patience. It is entirely possible that the only benefits that i will see from these coming 40 days will be in my wallet and my waistline, but I'm hoping that's not true. Hopefully I can learn to wait, if not patiently, at least purposefully. Time, somewhat ironically, will tell.