Not even two weeks have passed since I wrote about the value of dialing down for Lent. My big plan was to keep it simple and, mostly, I have. Today, on this third Sunday of Lent, please feel free to have a good laugh on/at me.
With 27 days left to go on this Lenten journey, I have become the cranky toddler who is whimpering, "Are we there yet?" Good thing today's first reading is about yet more grousing among the ancient Israelites during their schlep to the Promised Land. Note to self: Get onto knees and thank God that Lent doesn't last for 40 years.
As for that spiritual practice I was so inward-ho about? The one that involves contemplating (in writing!) what God is revealing about my life? Not so much fun. Actually, not fun at all. Downright uncomfortable. Right now, giving up chocolate and participating in soup-n-salad suppers and Living Stations extravaganzas is looking more attractive and certainly less challenging than 40 days of private prayer and contemplation -- even with the joyful knowledge that resurrection awaits.
