The Lenten Bell Tolls For Me
I'm digging my heels in. I'm crossing my arms and stamping, with fists clinched and screaming, "But I don't wanna!"
In my head, that is. In my head and my heart, this is how I am reacting to the fact that Lent begins next week. That means only one thing. I really need the season of penance and preparation this year. Spiritually and emotionally, the past few months have hit me hard. I can't explain why, exactly, but I'm bruised and broken and part of me does long for Lent, even though the majority of me seems to be in complete rebellion.
I'm already on a diet, so the food-related obligations of Lent don't concern me. It's the discipline of Lent against which I rebel. "Mine, mine, mine!" my childish heart within me yells, holding fiercely to my time, my occupations of thought and hands, and my hurts.
Thankfully, I know from experience that God is waiting for me in this approaching season of Lent, arms open wide, gently beckoning with His own healing, "mine, mine, mine" as he looks at His child's heart.