Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Dust to dust.
Tomorrow is the Big Day (or, rather, the Littlest Day). This year, I want so much from Lent. This undoubtedly means that I will be experiencing not so very much at all: it will be a real desert. I'm planning to fast from the noise in order to be more attentive to my children's noise.
This verse has been on my heart very much this past year, and it was in my Morning Prayer today: "Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." (Phil. 4.8) How many images or songs or thoughts or conversations in my life are true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, gracious, excellent, and worthy of praise? This Lent, I want to uplift these things, and cast out the others.
There is a time to read or watch the trash, but Lent is not that time. I've been spending too much time sifting through convoluted ultra-humanist thought (Teilhard, Rohr, cable news); it's necessary, but not for Lent. It's time to think and read about Jesus.
So, tomorrow we take a break and spend 40 days with Christ alone. With the true, the good, and the beautiful alone. The time for battles is past, this is a time of retreat.
Books for Lent:
Love Alone is Credible, Hans Urs von Balthsar
Story of a Soul, Sweet, strong Therese
He Leadeth Me, Fr. Ciszek
Romans, St. Paul
Drink of the Stream, Prayers of the Carmelites
25 minutes of spiritual reading after the kiddos are in bed (Todd and I are keeping each other accountable on this one!)
Miriam's sacrifice jar (she gets a jelly bean/M&M in the jar for each kindness/good work that I didn't have to tell her to do; she eats them at Easter)
More meatless meals (Fridays, for sure, and three other nights per week)
Great Posts for you to read:
Recommended reading for Lent, from Jen
Would you kids be quiet? I seeking God's will here., also from Jen
Yes, from Amy Welborn
A Meaningful Lent, Part III (Parts I and II rock, too), from Karen Edmisten