Sheila Sims Iding
I love Lent. I actually look forward to it. I get lazy with my faith. I get “wintery” with my faith. Like the winter days that start Lent, my faith gets dull, drab and lacking life. It needs a rejuvenating and refreshing. Lent reminds me to do that. Lent forces me to do that.
I say "force" because God is watching. My will power, my determination, my good intentions, my goals are just that. They are “mine”. I am not so tough on myself. I allow myself some wiggle room. I allow some breakdown of will power, some deviation from determination and some bad intentions to sabotage the good ones. What’s one cookie? What’s one morning without a run? What’s one shorten version of nightly prayers? What’s the matter with starting a new goal tomorrow? And tomorrow? And tomorrow? That’s the leeway I give myself.
Lent is tougher because it is easier. During Lent it is not for me..it's for God. So there is no wiggle room. That is where it becomes easier. There are no options, no do-overs and no restarts. It’s forty days and forty nights for God. When it is for me I can bargain with myself and, let me just say, I drive a hard bargain. I am good at making excuses. Too cold to run, can’t waste the cupcake that first grader gave me and I got to school early so don’t worry about my morning prayer. Excuses, excuses, excuses.
When it is just for me, I can…and do…change the rules. But Lent isn’t for me. It is for God. And I am pretty sure Jesus didn’t take any of the 40days/40 nights off. As God was watching Jesus, He fulfilled them all…and then some. And God is watching me. He is watching the missed run, the broken fast and the forgotten goal. And if you miss a run, break a fast or forget a goal, He gives you leeway too. He looks the other way and forgives even before you miss, break or forget Lenten promises.
But that is not the point during Lent. I have nothing to offer Jesus to repay Him for those forty days and forty nights, except to offer forty days and forty nights of my own. To thank Him with all my heart, my sacrifices have to come from my heart. They have to have meaning. They have to be sure and strong…and kept. No cheating. No bargaining. No wiggle room. God is watching. So is Jesus. Which brings us to this morning’s run.
At 4:30ish in the morning no one watches you run…except for God and Jesus. And maybe that creepy newspaper driver man that has my same morning schedule. One of my Lenten sacrifices is to run every morning. EVERY morning. I run most mornings anywasy. But if it is too rainy or too snowy or too icy or too anything I give myself the day off…unless it is Lent. When the run is a Lenten sacrifice, it has to be just that. It has to be sacrificial. Which means the harder it is, the bigger the sacrifice.
Any other snowy morning…any other snow day…I would have given up the run. Today I had to run. It is my Lenten sacrifice and even before Lent I made it part of my fast and prayer for my niece. As she started her treatments to be cancer free, I started my morning runs in prayer for her. So today’s morning run was not optional. I knew that when I went to bed last night. I knew that, unlike other snow days, I would HAVE to run this morning…for Lent and for Lindsay.
What I didn’t know as I put on my running shoes early this morning was that the run wouldn’t only be for Lent, for prayer, for sacrifice. The snow hit my face, the run was tough (even in the tire tracks) and the way was slippery and unsure. As I ran (clomped?) through the snow and saw the calm of the morning, felt the serenity of the season and took in the beauty of God’s decorations, it didn’t feel like a sacrifice at all. And just 15 seconds into the run I realized this run wasn’t to fulfill a Lenten sacrifice or promised obligation. This run on a cold, snowy, wintry morning wasn’t sacrificial or obligatory at all. It was a gift…from God.