The abundance of Lent
The past year of my life has contained more than its fair share of sorrow. Like most lives, happiness and joy were there too, but those were not the dominant flavors. Too much of the year was like a gruel I wish I could forget—an enormous swill of a stew with fear and misery stuck to the sides like week-old oatmeal. Thick, unappealing, and nauseating. The kind of thing best tossed in the trash.
Except we can't bury time that way. We can't trash what's happened to us any more readily than parts of ourselves, try as we might to force the lid on the whole rotten mess.
This Lent, as suggestions for Lenten disciplines have so clogged up my Facebook and Twitter and inbox that I've almost needed a Lent away from Lent, I've found myself spending some time thinking about the notion of fasting. Of holding back, going without, and what is erased. I came to the solid and most certain conclusion that this year, this Lent, nothing will bring me closer to the Spirit than a whole-hearted walk with abundance.
