Lent Review

I decided against reviewing my progress on each of my 'goals' for a couple of reasons. First, towards the end of Lent, making my goals started to feel like an obligation instead of something I wanted to do, and thus my Lenten reflection began to suffer and virtually disappear in the final weeks. Second, I think the vision gained in Lent is much more valuable than whatever thing we try to give up or take on. The point of Lent is to grow in our walk, not beat some benchmark. For the record, I felt pretty good about running and moderately good about spending, and I still plan on making progress in these two areas beyond Lent.

So what did I learn during my Lenten experiment? I could point towards a number of things, but the main thing that has sunk in is that I never realized how useless guilt is until the last few weeks. Whenever I fell short on one of my commitments, I felt guilty about it. When I spent too much, I felt guilty. When I ran less than I could, I felt guilty. How did I respond to the feeling of guilt? Did I change my behavior and use that feeling to improve myself? No. I tried to find a way to feel better, whether it was by indulging myself in a different way, or by beating myself to try and serve 'penance' for my trespasses against my commitments. Guilt proved to motivate only a desire to feel less guilty, not to do things differently or grow in a real, tangible way.

I recently read a blog where the author suggested that the words "ought to" are the most self-defeating two words in the English language, and suggested that "want to" were a far superior alternative. I tend to agree. If I ought to take better care of myself, or spend less, or anything really, I'm much less likely to actually make any progress than I am if I want to get that high that comes after a good run, or want to have money to spend on something I really want.

The heart wants what the heart wants, after all. If we try to trick ourselves by saying that we shouldn't be this way or that way, and that we "need" to do differently, things are unlikely to change. Trying to be someone you are not will only make you feel frustrated, inferior, and depressed, as I know quite well from the episodes of depression I have experienced in my life. Fighting who you are will not get you anywhere at all.

Does that mean that we should just do whatever we want, and damn the consequences? I don't think it does. I may be optimistic, but I think that, at least for most people, the heart wants to love and be loved above all else. How we go about that is up for debate, but I think most folks I know would agree that sharing in loving, healthy relationship with others is something that we deeply desire. So forgive the cliche, but it seems that it would be hard to go wrong when you follow your heart. Not instincts, not fleeting desires, but what you know, in the deepest part of yourself to be true, good, and lovely.

It's hard to live with guilt. It is easy, however, to make yourself feel guilty by creating false images of yourself that are unattainable. Part of trusting God, I think, is believing that you are here on purpose, that your core desires, your innermost hopes and identity, are good. Trying to be someone else will only make you miserable, but maybe, just maybe, the God who has created and is creating made us to be who we are to the fullest; to be unique, yet intertwined by the grace and love in which all our hopes our bound.

And so here is my prayer to close out Lent and start the next chapter in my life:

Living God, who has created, is creating, and will create,
Remind us that we are made in Your image,
That we may always walk in Your Grace,
Hope, and Love.

Help us see ourselves with Your eyes and not our own,
That we may come to live as Your children,
To love ourselves and one another as
You have loved us.

Surround us in Your presence,
And protect us from ourselves,
As we learn to trust in You.
Show us the way,
Amen.