Choosing Lent.

With a whopping 13 minutes till Lundi Gras, I began seriously thinking last night about what I may give up for Lent this year. (No time like the present, right?)

Around the same time, my multi-tasking mind recalled I hadn't watched a video my daddy had sent about nature. Keeping the parenthetical notation above in mind, I opened it, letting my mind ponder how I'd gone from a curious Baptist interested in her Catholic friends' devout practices to a member of a Presbyterian church where Lenten sacrifices are not only discussed, but encouraged. 

Watching the video, I was reminded of some of the reasons why I think Lent is important, regardless of denomination. 

First, the video: 

Now, a few reasons why Lent is important to me:

1. Sacrifice sharpens us. We never know when we'll need a skill, like being able to run fast, or spot a hole to climb in, or take a deep breath and think clearly. Maybe I've read too much Hunger Games.... Anyway, discipline can't hurt, right?

2. Sacrifice reminds us to be thankful. There may be better ways to learn appreciation than to go without even small things, and even for a short periods of time, but I'm not sure what those ways are.

3. Sacrifice reminds us we're not alone. Do I sometimes feel alone, like the only squirrel being chased down by the mean hawk? Well, naturally. I'm guessing many of us do. But is it possible for there to be one little squirrel in the forest? Doubtful. You and I are one of many, and can share so much. We just have to allow ourselves to. 

4. Sacrifice makes celebration sweeter. This fact, in the land of carnival and king cake known as the deep South, seems like such a no-brainer. But I think sometimes especially in the midst of such excess we need the reminder of why it all exists even more. It's not just a party for tourists. There's a story behind it, and come Easter, the real celebration is more heartfelt and glorious than any masquerade ball or parade could ever hope to present itself.

Baptist or Catholic, atheist or non-denominational, Presbyterian or Methodist, none of us are strangers to the feeling of being a small squirrel that is chased down by a ruthless hawk. Our inboxes fill with stress. Bank accounts remind us of our weaknesses. There are days when rather than blessings, our cups runneth over with relationship problems, health concerns, or repercussions from decisions we made ten years ago. No one is immune to parenting mistakes. No one can escape fears of the future. Hawks come in all shapes and sizes, and whether or not we believe there's a God or Lent is something we should partake in, we can't evade pressure.

We can, however, sharpen ourselves. We can meditate on what is true and just and pure. We can prepare ourselves for what may come our way. We can see what sacrifice feels like and appreciate what others (in my case, Jesus on the cross) have done for us. 

So that's why I choose to keep getting myself into this Lent situation. 

Because I'm far less prepared than any squirrel, and since every day brings a new hawk, it's clear this squirrel of a girl needs to take every opportunity to get busy sharpening skills and counting blessings. 

All it took was just one wink.

43 years ago today, my parents were married.

How, you ask?

Oh, it was the traditional Baptist wedding. Lacy white gown. Black tux. Sweet country church. (That my sister and I grew up in...in case you were wondering.)

But how did they meet?

Well, they went to school together.

So, naturally, they must've met through friends, or through church, or through their pastor.

But since my Daddy was Methodist and my Mother was Baptist and since my Daddy was from Saucier and since my Mother was from Woolmarket, where HER daddy was the pastor (which in case you don't know, was kind of a big deal), they met through other means.

My Mother boldly, while with another date at a high school dance, winked at my Daddy.

Do I think that's nuts?

(Have you MET me? YES! I think that's absolutely, totally, out-of-this-world CRAZY!!! Am I grateful? Well, yes. I kind of adore existing in this beautiful, whacked out world. So....)

Here we are. 2012.

And my Daddy and my Mother have stuck it out, for better or worse, through sickness or health, till death do they part.

And boy, are my sister and I thankful!

Not only do we exist, but we also have learned what it feels like to see love as a decision as well as a beautiful teenage emotion.

Good job, Kent and Cathy.

Much better than I could've done, no doubt. :-)

Mission & Prayer.

I'm working in an environment I've never experienced before -- not so much the healthcare area, but the spiritual facet. Since I'm not Catholic, I wasn't sure at first what it'd be like, but I knew from week one that it is an amazing fit for me, and a blessing to be part of.

These are some things I'm exposed to every day as I begin my work, and they provide an absolutely beautiful way to focus and remember why I'm doing what I'm doing:

Our Mission

Inspired by the vision of St. Francis of Assisi and in the tradition of the Roman Catholic Church, we extend the healing ministry of Jesus Christ to God’s people, especially those most in need.


We call forth all who serve in this healthcare ministry, to share their gifts and talents to create a spirit of healing–with reverence and love for all of life, with joyfulness of spirit, and with humility and justice for all those entrusted to our care.

We are, with God’s help, a healing and spiritual presence for each other and for the communities we are privileged to serve.

And this is my favorite part of all -- the peace prayer of St. Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;

Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Sacrifice: No walk in Candyland.

My sister's church practices Lent and Advent and such, and my nephew goes to the church's preschool, so his class decided as a group to give something up for Lent. (I really thought that was a cute idea.)

But don't worry, because they're giving up Candyland for Lent. And according to Kim, Caleb's reaction was, "For FORTY days and nights, Mom! NO Candyland!"

And I thought bread and junky carbs would be tough.