This year, for the first time, I gave up something for Lent. I gave up milk. Ever since I can remember, probably since I could hold a spoon, I have had Cheerios and milk for breakfast. And for quite a while I have realized that milk disagrees with my insides. Finally my doctor, practically with tears in her eyes, asked me to just try to not have milk for a while. I said, “How about for Lent? But I’m eating cheese.”
It is amazing how much better I feel.
But it is such a blessing to think about Jesus every morning.
Every morning I have to stop and think — am I fixing a toaster waffle? am I fixing oatmeal? am I eating an egg? And by stopping, I remember: I’m doing this for Christ, who did so much more for me. It is a prayer with my hands, if not with my sleepy brain.
(Not eat breakfast?! I wake up HUNGRY so I always eat breakfast. 😉 )
Time has passed differently in this Lenten period. Not necessarily faster or slower. I think the word I want is that I have felt present. Even sleepy, I have been doing more than going through the motions of daily life. And by challenging how I eat breakfast, it is as if the universe has decided I need to change all sorts of things. I’m a person who like routine and orderliness and calm. Yet here we are, living in interesting times, and learning about resistance and writing to politicians and going to “Town Halls” and all sorts of things that I never knew, that I should have known, I am learning now. My heart sometimes skips a beat when I think of how much I took for granted. Well, I’m woke now.
The disciples might have felt a little bit this way, seeing both Jesus on a cross, dying, and seeing the risen Christ. Woke up. Present. Sorry and forgiven. Humble. Hopeful.
Anyway…I am looking forward to a small glass of milk Sunday. I’m curious how I will feel. But I’m also looking forward to continuing this practice (I hope).