Lent.

I know we’re already almost a week into most of the Lenten traditions of this time of year, but I’ve been on the move for the past five days and haven’t had a chance to catch ya’ll up on my life. Last Wednesday, I drove to Pittsburgh to work a few days from the office there, and I also got to spend two nights with M, which was a particularly special extra since we don’t frequently get to spend weeknights together. It was just a little glimpse of how our life might work after this time apart is over, and it made me both giddy and a little bit sad. There’s something that feels a little bit grown-up about getting up early, getting ready and leaving for work together in a flurry of shaving cream, high heels and briefcases. But it also made me just the tiniest but resentful that we can’t live like that right now. Resentful of my job and my decision to move to DC and the distance between us. But for now, I know this is what’s best for us, so I’m focusing more on the infrequent moments that we get to share these types of mornings.

On Friday, I headed to Philadelphia to celebrate my cousin’s 25^th birthday and see my family. It was so lovely to see these special people in my life, and though I left Pittsburgh feeling lonely and sad, I felt so loved, relaxed and joyed this weekend. The anniversary of my uncle’s passing was on Wednesday, and though that sadness shrouded this week, we spent the weekend remembering happy memories of him and talking about so many of the funny things he said. It was really special for all of us.

Anyway, after spending the past four nights in four different beds, I’m supremely grateful to be back in my little nook of Virginia tonight. And in fact, I’m planning on being here for the next THREE weeks. This coming weekend, I’m looking forward to a visit from M, and the following weekend I absolutely can’t wait for one of my dearest friends from high school to visit. I might actually be able to buy more than three days worth of groceries this week.

Now, back to the real reason I started this post—Lent. Let’s start by saying that I’m not Catholic. Not that Lent isn’t an important season in other forms of Protestant religions, but it doesn’t seem to be marked with the same traditions as the Catholic faith. And I don’t know much about the origin of the “giving something up” ritual, but I like the idea of making room in your heart and soul and life for God by giving up something that takes you away from Him. That’s always a good thing. However, the part that I have a hard time understanding is how giving up Diet Coke would make me feel a greater presence of God in my life. I’m thinking that it has something to do with self control and sacrifice, but somehow it doesn’t come across that way for me. That’s probably why I have a hard time understanding it. I also don’t really get the whole “no meat on Fridays” thing, and I always give M a hard time about it. If someone could explain that tradition to me and where feeling God fits into no-McDonald’s-on-Friday, I would very much appreciate it. M would too so I can finally get off his back.

Back to the story. So, this year I decided I was going to give “giving something up” a shot. But it couldn’t be Diet Coke or sushi or blogging or Twitter because those things all bring me a lot of joy, and I don’t find that they interfere with my time with Jesus, so that doesn’t seem like the right thing for me. In fact, it seems like my biggest obstacles in feeling God most clearly are all around my reactions to other people. I let myself get mad or offended or unhappy or hurt because of the way I let other people affect me. That infiltrates my heart and blocks out anything good or beautiful, like God, because I get so encompassed by these feelings. That’s definitely not good.

So this year, I’m trying something really hard. I’m giving up “not celebrating other people’s happiness” for Lent. I am surrounded by lovely people. I have amazing friends and family and coworkers. And by the grace of God, these people have wonderful things happen in their lives. They get promoted and get engaged and have babies and buy new cars and new homes. They have really great days and find big happiness and make delicious dinners and have fancy purses and shoes. And I am so, so proud of them for all of these things. But I’m also a little bit jealous, and that jealousness douses the flames of joyousness in my heart. I don’t allow myself to enjoy their joy because I’m comparing their great achievements to my shortcomings. And that’s not fair…for me or for them. I want to experience unencumbered happiness when great things happen in my friends’ lives. I want to burst with love and scream and cry with the amount of love I feel for them. I don’t want even the teensiest little bit of jealousy to get in the way of my celebration of them. So for Lent, and hopefully for seasons beyond, I am giving up not celebrating. I am carving out that piece of my heart and making room for only love, only happiness and only God.

To me, this seems to be what Lent is about: looking outward, looking beyond one’s self, finding God in bigger and brighter and more significant ways. Preparing our hearts for the death and resurrection of Jesus by honoring him in the best way we know how.

To making space this Lent,

Lia