10 Ideas for Your Lenten Journey

With Ash Wednesday a mere two weeks away, I'm looking for a good Lenten sacrifice or devotion to deepen my faith - something that speaks to where I am in my spiritual journey. I love that we have a season to reflect on humbling and improving ourselves in anticipation of Easter. We enter Lent as a slightly different person from who we were the year before, so our sacrifice should reflect our current shortcomings.

I've put together some ideas that I've done or heard of. Thanks to those who contributed! Please share your own in the comments.

1. Spend 10 minutes a day in silence, listening to God. I did this in college one year and learned a lot from stopping my day to focus on God. I never had an agenda - no petitions or recited prayers. Instead, I took the approach of, "So, God - what do you want to talk about today?" Through these 10 minutes, I learned a lot about where I was falling short as well as why the Church stuck to specific teachings.
2. Participate in 40 hours of service. A friend just told me she wanted to do this - and I think it's a great idea! It would take a lot of advanced planning to complete all 40 hours in 8 weeks, but it's doable.
3. Limit self-indulgent time. This could be watching mindless TV, checking Facebook, or reading novels. For me last year, it was long showers. I cut down my shower time from half an hour to 15 minutes. That may still seem like a long time, but it was hard for me. I love taking a long time to wake up in the morning and relax in a hot shower.
4. Say the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary every day. Can you imagine how powerful Holy Week and Easter would be if you took the time to reflect on Christ's passion so often?
5. Write and mail 40 letters - each to a different friend or family member. Sharing our appreciation for others can help to put our lives in perspective.
6. Listen only to Christian music. Switch that radio to a Christian station in the car as a daily reminder of what's important. I did this one year for Lent and rarely listen to regular radio anymore!
7. Read Fr. Robert Barron's daily Lenten reflection. This I am definitely doing! He's such an inspiring speaker. You can sign up here: http://www.lentreflections.com/#.Uvtpsi1mgNA.facebook.
8. Meditate on the gospels 20 minutes a day. I know I keep talking about this, but it bears repeating - it has been great for my spiritual journey. Read more about the benefits I've discovered here.
9. Stop snoozing the alarm. Get up the first time the alarm goes off. It's supposed to be better for your energy level, and it'll build self-discipline.
10. Attend daily mass. How can we go wrong gathering together to receive Jesus each day?! Or you could go to Stations of the Cross every Friday.

What ideas would you add?

The Gift of Tears

I've found myself crying, or near tears, a lot more often recently. But these aren't normal tears - they aren't tears of self-pity or sadness or joy for something happening in my life. They have to do with the transformation going on inside of me. These days, I can't even get through mass without tearing up.

Friday evening, driving home from work, I was reflecting on Jesus' passion. All of a sudden, I was sobbing, moved by how much He must have loved us, even in the midst of our darkest hour - condemning and killing our Savior. It's something I've thought about before, but that night, it hit me hard. I wanted to make it up to Him, but my whole life's work is not even enough. I was reminded of Mother Teresa's vow to refuse nothing to Christ. Really, isn't that the only acceptable response?

This isn't the first time I've been overcome to the point of tears...

I distinctly remember a moment from my confirmation retreat in 8th grade. We were spread out throughout the dimly-lit cathedral, praying individually. The retreat leaders came around to each of us, asked what we'd like to pray for, and then joined us in prayer for a few minutes. When my turn came, I burst into tears. I was overwhelmed by two things:

1. As we entered the cathedral for this quiet prayer time, we were handed a small sheet of paper with a letter typed out - something like this (I wish I could find the actual one!). The "letter" was written from Jesus, explaining how much He loves us individually and wants to be with us, even though He reaches out to us a million times and we don't respond.
2. This stranger wanted to pray for MY intentions. She had never met me before, but she took the time to ask, "What can I pray for?", and then sat with me and prayed for me, for my family, and I don't know what else. To tell the truth, I was so overcome that I couldn't think of anything specific to ask her to pray about!

This was my first real encounter with both Jesus' unique love for me, as described in the letter, and another's openness to pray with and for me. By offering to pray for me, she showed me what Christ's love looks like. It was beautiful! ...and more than I could handle.

Two more teary-eyed moments were during retreats in college (the Awakening retreat I talked about in my post on Aggie Catholics). My freshman year, I was overcome by the sacrifice of the students running the retreat - giving up their weekend to be there for us and welcoming us where we were, with open arms. After the initial excitement of the retreat, we had time for confession and quiet reflection. The only light in the room came from the candles we set in the shape of a cross. I once again saw Jesus' love poured out through others.

The other time, I was a sophomore, giving a talk during the retreat. The support I got from the other students, in hand-written notes, small gifts, and a group prayer over me before I spoke really did me in. They showered me with thoughts and prayers, again revealing the depths of Jesus' love. (I'll post my talk some other time!)

These moments were some of the most poignant of my faith journey. They occurred when I was being transformed, renewing my dedication to know, love, and serve God. I've always had a relationship with God the Father, but I tend to keep Jesus at a distance. I can't fathom how much He endured, and sometimes I don't feel like our salvation was worth it.

But in these moments that bring me to tears, I can't escape His love. He chose to die for us, freely. That's a gift I'm trying to accept. As much as I don't like crying, I'm drawn to these encounters, both feeling Christ's love through others and being Christ to others. I can't back away, because I'd really be missing out. My tears mean I'm growing in love.

So...hi Jesus, and thank You!

St. John Lateran - Rome, Italy

"The Feast of Victory"

This is the feast of victory for our God
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia

A few weeks ago, I attended a talk on the battle that's raging in our world - not the battles in the Middle East or in political circles, but the battle for souls. The priest related our task on earth to that of soldiers on a battlefield, fighting for life and pulling our fallen friends back to safety, building up an army for good and for God. There's no doubt in my mind that we're in the midst of a struggle and that we need to have courage to fight against evil. Although I agreed with the points he was making (and he had pretty powerful examples), I wasn't moved to action, so I spent a lot of time analyzing why not.

What I decided is that beauty is a much more powerful image to me than battle. I long for beauty and take comfort in finding it, whereas I shy away from confrontation. In a battle, I would be the nurse taking care of the soldiers, not one of the infantry. My mission is to take care of those around me and win over others through compassion and rational dialogue, which, in a sense, is still fighting the battle.

Another priest gave a homily the other day on his time in the Middle East as an air force chaplain. Each morning he spent time sitting on a picnic table, staring at the beautiful mountains in the distance. An officer walked by many mornings and one day stopped to ask what he was doing. The officer started sitting with him each morning in silence, staring at the mountains. To me that was a great reminder that even amidst war, there is still beauty, and we need to take time to recognize and appreciate it.

Jesus' death was a terrible event in history. He battled not just pain from scourgings, thorns, and nails, but also from scorn, abandonment, and despair. He was alone fighting for what was true, pouring out His blood for the souls of those who killed Him. What passion, what love! The road to the cross was painful and difficult, but it was beautiful, just as it's beautiful when a mother sacrifices sleep to sooth her baby, night after night, without complaint or recognition for her dedication.

Jesus fought the war against death and won. What a victory that is for the whole world - not just for one nation or one people, but for all. We're on the winning side. Although we know the outcome of the war, battles are still raging all around. On this Easter day, with the hymn "This is the Feast of Victory" still ringing in my ears from mass, the battle is real. The hymn has such power behind it with an organ and a whole congregation proclaiming Jesus' triumph over death. This is what we believe, and we're witnesses in the way we live our lives. Beauty and battle both have a role in the world today, as they did on the cross. How are we contributing?

Easter!

Happy Easter!