Giving It Our All

In two weeks it will be Good Friday.
I had to say that a couple times until it sunk in.
Wow.

But it's not over yet!
This is the part of Lent were we've got to get it all we've got.

Once I ran a 5k. Just once (haha actually I've run a couple 5k's but I am in no way a runner). Anyways. I kept a steady pace most of the way. Had a cramp here, had to stop there, but kept going. Towards the end, I sprinted and pushed by body to the furthest it could go (which isn't necessarily very far. Like I said, I'm not a runner). But I ended up in 2nd place.

Now, anyone who has ever pushed themselves too far while running knows what tends to follow. But that's besides the point.

I am one of those people who let's themselves have a little reward on Sundays because going a whole week without whatever you gave up is hard. It should be.
I mentioned this to someone who generally doesn't really agree with Catholicism in general. Which includes not feeling the need to make a Lenten sacrifice. But she told me that I wasn't really getting the point. That if I was going to refuse to do this now but as soon as Sunday morning comes around jump on the opportunity, then it wasn't really a sacrifice.

My first reaction was that she needs to remove the log from her eye before trying to remove the splinter from mine. I see now that just thinking that probably means I'm the one with a log in my eye.
She made me think.

Our priest said in his homily today that we don't have enough time left to radically discipline or change ourselves. All we can do now is look within, into our hearts, and see what God has written there.

Sure, I've been making sacrifices these past 30-something days. I started out pretty strong. I've gotten shaky.
But I have two weeks. You have two weeks. We have two weeks.
Two weeks to suffer and be awesome and give it our all.
To actually take time to pray. To give someone a genuine smile when they're being really annoying. To do more homework when you just want to crawl in bed. To refuse temptations when they're waved in your face. To keep your mouth shut when you want attention or feel the need to be rude or gossip. To do little things with great love.

To see Christ in each person and treat them with the love you'd give to Him.

Jesus didn't enjoy suffering. He didn't necessarily want it. But He did want to save us from our sin. To obey. To love completely. To the end.
"I am troubled now. Yet what should I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'?... when I am lifted up from the earth I will draw everyone to myself."

What I Have to Offer

Hello you lovely people.

I don't believe in making excuses. But towards the end of last quarter I was so mentally drained that I couldn't really do anything but the bare minimum. I was holding on by a thread, counting the hours until Spring Break.

It's very inconvenient how Spring Break always falls right in the middle of Lent. On one hand, we are all in desperate need of some time to just be lazy, and on the other we know that we should be focusing on being penitent and growing in prayer and love for God.

There's no compromise. All or nothing.

But I'm not here to talk about my vacation or whether or not I have been good or bad or whatever.
Earlier today I was reflecting on the past week (which has been a great time) and I started wondering if I could have done more. If I could have gotten up early to pray a rosary instead of sleeping in. If I could have been a little less crazy and a better example. It was really getting to me, actually.

All the possibilities and chances not taken.

Obviously it was too late. I was too late. I had failed.

Often I have to stop myself when I find myself thinking like this and say to myself "Wait. Who exactly have you failed? Who set all these expectations that were not met?"

God doesn't set goals for us. He doesn't say that if we do this or that we'll be rewarded. He doesn't require anything from us. He just wants us.

Over the past few days I've been lost in myself and my experiences, but still I can point out a handful of moments that shine like stars though the darkness of everything the world has to offer. Moments where I offered my heart to God.
Small, instantaneous, and undeniably beautiful.
This is all I have to offer this week, and I know it's not enough, but nothing will ever be enough.

Lent is about the journey, and for me that's 49% me stumbling around and 51% Jesus dragging me back up again.
Sometimes we fall flat on our faces. It just so happens that this is the most humble place you can be, lying at His feet.

He pulls me up, embraces me, and we keep going.