It’s true. I gave up walking for Lent. Not intentionally, but it just so happens that between surgery dates and follow up dates, I will not bear any weight on my left foot for the entirety of Lent this year.
Lent, the forty days before Easter, is traditionally a time of self-sacrifice, self-control, self-denial, and reminder that we are fallible creatures. Some choose to give up alcohol or chocolate or social media as practice for self-denial and a reminder that delayed gratification and doing hard things are worth it. As much as I push myself to do hard things, I never planned on giving up anything as crucial as walking!
This year, I feel more dependent, fallible, and earthly than ever. I literally fell causing this whole debacle in the first place. I am weak, weary, wounded and wanting this year more than ever.
Lent reminds us of our humanity, mortality, and dustiness. It contrasts sharply with Resurrection Sunday for which we wait and hope, a time “when all sad things will come untrue.”
So I learn afresh that I am human and connected to the dust of the ground, but God cares for me still. There are so, so many times in scripture that the words “But God” provide me with such hope. We are humbled, broken, and fallen. And there is purpose in concentrating on these aspects of our being and reminding ourselves of all our non-awesome-ness. But God doesn’t leave us there. He doesn’t leave us in the mess or humiliation or fallen state or brokenness. He provides Himself as the solution to life’s problems.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
Psalm 73:26
but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.
Yes, I gave up walking for Lent. I am daily reminded of my ineptitude and frailties as I hoblog throughout the house, but a new day is coming. I await it with eager anticipation.
