Giving Up for Lent

 Lent began last Wednesday.  My Spring Break began this past Monday (though technically it began after my very last class on Friday). 

  I watched as many students in class raised their hand in response to the teacher asking how many are going somewhere warm for break.  I admit- though I quickly pondered the thought of sunny beaches, I really wasn't all that jealous.  I relish the thought of making progress on a few house projects.

 One of my Lenten callings during spring break was to get to daily Mass during the week.  The challenge being that my two youngest weren't feeling that same calling and Mass began before they catch the bus.  In order for me to be able attend they'd have to go with me.

  For the record, I am not one who's above bribing and this presented the perfect opportunity to try out the term "positive reinforcement" that has been a hot topic in my Psych 101 course.  Also for the record- donuts work like a charm.

  On the drive to our first morning Mass of the week, my young daughter and son were very receptive to talking about the whole concept of Lenten sacrifice.  We discussed how getting up a little earlier to be on time for Mass was a great thing to offer up.  It was at this point in the conversation as they were tossing ideas of offering up treats and privileges that my daughter said, "Well, I've already given up talking back to you, Mom."  To which I responded to my feisty first grader, "That's a very good thing for you to give up, Evie."  She was not done with the discussion until she blurted out, "I'm giving up being perfect!," in the most sincere tone.  I couldn't help but let out a laugh and tell her that is actually a very good idea.

  Evie made it through half the Mass before the wiggles began to get the best of her.  Barely able to contain herself she asked in a not-so-subtle hoarse whisper, "Is it time to go yet,?"  "No," I quietly returned with an added, "Shhhh," to keep her tone down because we were sitting directly behind three elderly, female, church-going regulars.  "But we're going to be late for school!" she whined.  I vehemently shook my head back and forth and pantomimed my finger to my lips hoping to silence her.  This did not get the desired effect as she insisted, "Time to go!"  I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Hey, you gave this up for lent," to remind her of her intent to not talk back to me.  She was quick to reply in her not even close to quiet whisper, "No I didn't- I gave up being perfect."  I didn't count but I'm fairly certain all three sets of shoulders and sets of coiffed hair in front of us trembled slightly in an effort to either keep from sighing or hold in their laughter.  I chose to believe the latter.

  Over this past week I've also come to believe my daughter's proclamation to forgo perfection as sage advice to me.  For sure, this past week's Masses have been a real call for me to let go of any notion of being perfect and just hang on to the fact that we made it to church at all...let alone mostly on time after helping the older four with earlier school schedules catch their bus on time.  The three elderly ladies who were privy to this "whispered" conversation...normally would have been cause for perspiration to bead on my scrunched brow out of a need to keep my children behaved.  This week I let go of exceedingly high expectations and worry of others judgment and was grateful that we had this opportunity to be...simply that...just be in the presence of a God who understands because He made us and even said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." (Mathew 19:14). 

  I didn't get many house projects done this week- but that's ok, perfection is overrated anyway.  What a great Spring Break reminder. 


 

Just Right...or Just WRITE!

  But what if I have nothing to say?  Write anyway.

  But...what if my writing is awful?  You will make others feel really comfortable in their abilities.

  Ok- I can dig those responses to the voice that continues to plague my creative urge.  Plagued or not- I'm NOT stopping.  I WILL write until the words are no more... then..I.. will..squeak...out..a..few...more...syllables. 

Why?  Because I can.  And because it is a responsibility- a joyful one at that!

There is a certain freedom in realizing that perfection is overrated and just putting a thought out into the starry universe might actually encourage someone to leap their latest hurdle or perhaps put words to that haunting melody that won't loosen it's grip on free memory space- not even at 3 a.m.

  What are we waiting for?  Time to live our BEST lives now.

  I was looking at the fraying curtains hanging in my living room today and instantly thought of the crisp white linens I had been saving for summer- sadly, still packed in the storage bin in my attic.  Why are they packed away in my attic at the start of September?  Because I was imagining them hung when my walls are freshly painted and carpet is laid.  Such a silly thought- they weren't even brand new when I bought them.  Why not hang them and have crisp white curtains that freshen the room? 

  What good is waiting to WRITE until the wordsmithing genie grants that illustrious sentence which oozes chic and humorous undertones to the intelligent, deep, and thought-provoking wisdom we'd like to share with the world?  What if we wait to journal until the children have given us memorable events that we can pass on to their children's children?  What if we let minutes, hours, days, months, and years go by without recording a simple sentence that made us smile.  What if we forget that it's ok to JUST WRITE- especially when no one else will read it?  We will end up with blank pages and fuzzy memories of a distant day that held no importance to the grand scheme of life- except to that child that asks "Mommy, what did I used to do that made you laugh?"  One of my favorite journal entries is a simple recording of what I was doing in that very moment- Laying in bed at the close of day with my husband softly breathing beside me and my newborn son snuggled up close to my heartbeat.  I then sketched that moment (to the best of my sketchy ability) so I wouldn't forget the tenderness within those very minutes.  How grateful I am to have that memory, from ten years ago, to pull out.

  Perfection is a plague...the cure is simply- put pen to paper, paintbrush to canvas...heck..paper is fine too!  Lend your voice to the wind, let your feet leap about, share a thought with another soul, photograph your favorite scene, plant a seed and watch the miracle that unfolds, pick up that hammer and hang that picture you are storing on your spare room floor...will a bit of crookedness rob it of the initial surge of beauty that stirred your soul?  There's a reason the logo "Just Do It" was so grandly applauded-- our thoughts can stop what is meant to be enjoyed, shared, and lived out.  Perhaps still the thoughts and trust your instincts- have fun and Just WRITE!