Horrible Beginning

My sixth consecutive day sick in bed is closing as I type.  Last Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday, I fell suddenly extremely ill with the Influenza A virus (the same thing as Swine Flu, Bird Flu, H1N1) and pneumonia in one of my lungs.  I had a 103 degree fever for four full days, fainted one time, took antibiotics that really upset my stomach, and had incredible difficulty breathing that is just now disappearing.  Whew.  

Needless to say, the opening moments of my Lenten season have been a far cry from the dazzling beginning to last year's fast.  I knew this year would be different, but this has been so disappointing.  I didn't even get to go to church on Ash Wednesday, and I had to break my fast a few times to drink apple juice when I couldn't stomach any other form of nourishment.  I am going to try to go to class tomorrow for the first time in a week - here's hoping I don't pass out.  

Lent is a time of forgetting (or at least lessening) your physical needs so you can focus on your spiritual ones.  Pneumonia is a time of total consumption with your physical needs to the total exclusion of all others.  This whole thing has begun backward, and I've missed one of my six precious weeks of Lent.  

But perhaps there's a lesson there.  When we fast, one of the most important things to remember is that it's about letting go.  Fasting forces you to examine your motives pretty closely, and being totally physically and mentally leveled for a full week has cleared the decks in my thinking.  I think I otherwise might have gone into this fast the same way I did last year - with a long list of "goals" and a structured format for all the prayers I wanted to say while I longed for a trip to the frozen yogurt shop.  

This is not about the blessings but the Blesser, although the blessings are numerous.  When Jesus tells people not to look miserable when they're fasting, he's saying that you can choose how rewarding you want this experience to be.  If you look miserable to win the approval of others, you've already gotten your reward, which will be their silent applause.  I take that to mean that you can also go into this hoping for spiritual direction, more discipline about eating well, and getting in better touch with temptation - and those will be your rewards, too.  But you can also go into this with abandon, desiring nothing but God himself.  That's always an option we can choose, in everything we do.  Somehow feeling utterly miserable for a week has made me cheer and delight in this option, and all other hopes for Lent are lost.  This season, I want not his, but Him.  

So here goes.  Late start - or maybe not.  

Game Plan and Preparation

One week from today is Ash Wednesday, and I am so looking forward to it.  It seems strange to be "really excited about Lent," but since I am a divinity school student I can say those kinds of things around my friends and it isn't too weird.

Since my whole life is about the academic study of God and Christianity, I think it's important to steer clear of anything really "formal" and try to tap into another method of communicating closely with the Lord.  I don't think I can handle any more reading right now (as I write this I am postponing my planning for a lecture on St. Francis that I have to give tomorrow), so I want to try to write one sonnet a day.  It'll be creative, it will make me really comfortable thinking in verse, and hopefully will give some structure (but a creative structure) to my prayer life.  46 sonnets in 46 days is a tall order, and I am guessing 43 of them will be truly terrible, but it's my offering.

I also can't wait to start the Daniel Fast again.  I can't wait for that rush of health to hit me when the day begins, for the energy, that extra clean feeling - and a good reason to say no to a lot of things I shouldn't be eating anyway.

Dear Jesus, I pray you would begin to work in the hearts of all those who prepare themselves for Lenten observance.  Rush to their care, and grant them the intimacy with you they crave.  Teach each one what you would have them learn this season, and help us all to prepare for your glorious resurrection to occur anew in our hearts on Easter morning.  Amen.

Lent 2012

Just about a month until Lent begins again, and I am planning.

I have kept up with my whole food vegan diet since Lent last year - I cheat a few times a month, but the spiritual and physical heath that I experienced during Lent was too good to give up last Easter.

I think I will go back to the Daniel Fast of last year.  I was worried it wouldn't be enough of a change from my normal diet since I've remained a vegan, but the total abstinence from sweeteners, any beverages except water, leavened breads and solid fats will be a pretty big change.  I also think I will do a total fast once or twice a week - maybe on Tuesdays and Fridays.

Instead of just not eating certain things to observe Lent, this year I'd like to add something that I'll do during this season.  I've thought about gathering with friends to have a Bible Study, or that I would undertake a reading assignment on my own.

It was suggested by a friend of mine that a group of us gather to say the Daily Office. It consists of Morning Prayer, Daily Mass, Evening Prayer/Vespers, and Night Prayer.  It would be challenging schedule-wise, but would certainly make for a well ordered Lent.  Something to consider.

I am beginning to pray about this now.  Life is so different this Lenten season than it was last year, and as much as I would like to repeat my 2011 experience exactly, I know there are new ways to grow that are appropriate to my new life.  One of the first lessons I learned last year was that my specific expectations are somewhat irrelevant; fasting makes us attentive to that which God wants to do in our hearts, and we needn't wait long to have these desires revealed.

New Desert

For Lent: "What is my new desert? The name of it is compassion. There is no wilderness so terrible, so beautiful, so arid and so fruitful as the wilderness of compassion. It is the only desert that shall truly flourish like the lily. It shall become a pool, it shall bud forth and blossom and rejoice with joy. It is in the desert of compassion that the thirsty land turns into springs of water, and that the poor possess all things."
-Thomas Merton