Lent

I grew up in a town with 4 options for a church of my religion. The Spanish speaking one, the ultra conservative one, the ultra, ultra conservative one and the last one, sort of a middle of the road, medium sized church. We went to the latter. We never spoke of lent in my church. I knew about it because the rest of the churches in my town were Catholic. However, lent was never brought up. I never had to choose what to give up, I never had to make the sacrifice.

A few years ago it became “all the rage” to give something up for lent. I felt like all the cool Christians were doing it. I felt like they were doing it to be cool, to make a statement, to rub their Godliness in others faces. I know that I was probably wrong in that, now that I am so much older and wiser. Insert sarcasm here.

Yesterday was Fat Tuesday and while we were making our dinner I mentioned that we should give something up for lent. It had been on my mind for a few weeks and since yesterday would have been the day to decide if we would participate, I mentioned it.

Josh immediately said, “You should give up Freebirds and Papa Murphys!” I almost died on the spot. He had me pegged. Because we had never participated in lent before, we discussed with the children the basic idea. We should sacrifice something small to say thank you to Jesus and God for giving up something SO very BIG. Emily immediately replied with, “Wow, Mom, use God against me.” We all had a good laugh at that one.

So after we sat for dinner we discussed several options for the kiddos to choose from. Some of the options were candy, computer time, Wii time, texting, brownies, soda and homework. It was decided after much debate that the kids would give up soda and Josh and I would give up Freebirds and Papa Murphys. It was an interesting time of conversation in our house around the dinner table, one that I enjoyed and am glad I have to reflect on.

So this year, we are participating in lent. Because we should be able to give up something that we enjoy for 40 days. The Lord gave up so much more than that for us.

What? Me worry?

Have you ever thought about turning over something to God? Something you have worried about and worried yourself almost sick? And then you pray about it and then you turn it over, or you think you turned it over. Then it comes back. Or maybe it doesn’t.

A lot of times I would look at people who worried and laughed to myself. Because, while I worry a little, I have always been able to really turn my worries over to God. Just let them go. I just would pray over it and I wouldn’t worry my pretty little head over it anymore. I even prayed for the worriers. Because that is such a horrible thing to have to carry around with you. I really could not understand why they couldn’t let their worries go. Honestly, just give that over to God- He will make it better.

Then I read the following from Frances Chan’s book crazy love:

“Worry implies that we don’t quite trust that God is big enough, powerful enough or loving enough to take care of what’s happening in our live.

Stress says that the things we are involved in are important enough to merit our impatience, our lack of grace towards each others, or our tight grip of control.

Basically, these two behaviors communicate that it is okay to sin and not trust God because the stuff in my life is somehow exceptional. Both worry and stress reek of arrogance.”

Wow, ok- so worry I am good with, oh, but the stress. That rings a little too close for comfort. I do stress. And when I do I am in a way worrying, but simply placing a different name to it and reacting differently. How angry that must make God. How dare I think that what I am doing is way more important than anyone else. I was quickly convicted and also, felt a little nauseous.

You see for me, I really do believe that God is big, powerful and loving. I know He is going to take care of anything I might be inclined to worry about. But the stress, oh the stress. I mean- I am a wife, a mother, a teacher with 4 preps, a girl scout leader, a school club sponsor, a friend, a confidant, a Sunday school teacher and the list goes on. How could I NOT stress?

I wanted to fix this, but was not sure how that could be accomplished. Then, the next Sunday in our sermon we learned about the Exodus and how in 14:14 of Exodus, Moses says, “The Lord will fight for you; you only need to be still.” And a wave of still came over me. It is hard to believe that this scripture had never been taught to me before, or at least not when I was paying attention. I checked, none of my Bibles had it underlined. (They do now, but you know, that sermon was a couple of weeks ago now.) And you know what, the more I started to pray that scripture and began to ask for that stress to be taken from me, the better I began to feel. I began to let my stress go. I can’t say that I am cured completely or even forever. But I know now that I have found that when I sit still and let God take the burden for me, that I can and will be ok.

Surgery

I am alone in my home right now.

I sit here in my room alone while my insides begin to heal.

My family has headed out to see a movie to allow me some quiet time.

I can’t sleep.

So, I will write.

I am not sure I have thought provoking or fantastical to say, but I have had the urge to start writing again and I think I will start putting it all on “paper” again this summer.

This morning I had minor surgery. I had been diagnosed with menorrhea. This means that I have excessive, horrific, painful menstrual periods. This had begun probably four to five years ago. It was becoming more and more of a problem so I began to see doctors about it and found out about a procedure last summer. But, I waited and didn’t do anything about it. A year passed and things got worse. So I was on it again. I made the appointments and took care of business. And today was the day.

I was scared.

Really scared.

But I wasn’t really sure what I was scared of. Just that I had a sinking feeling of doom.

I went into the hospital and was scared. But as I was waiting for all of the people to come and see me and for all the nurses and doctors to do their thing I began to feel a wash of calm come over me. I knew at that moment that the prayers I had said and those my friends and family had and were saying were “doing their job.” God gave me a calm. And suddenly I was ok. Then… they came in and gave me valium. HA! I thought, if only you had been here 15 minutes ago! But then, I would not have been reminded that I am not the one in control. That the doctors and nurses are not the ones in control. No, God is the one in control. And He will always find a way to remind you of that.