Sunday, February 26, 2012


First Sunday Of Lent

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the wilderness and he remained there for forty days, 
and was tempted by Satan. He was with the wild beasts, and the angels looked after him.
                                                                                   Mark 1:12

Off to Mass this morning with my family. After the fire drill of preparations we crowd into the car.  My stress levels popping my eyes out of my head,  my hair resembling a sprouted and gnawed tuft of straw as I slouch and howl a silent Munch scream from sugar withdrawal.  Fasting brings out the disorder and disobedience in the basement of my being.  I need a u-haul to nowhere to move out all the stuff stuffed I don’t want to hold onto and yet, I do, like a ball and chain through a pastry shop.  Even an apocalyptic bake sale would do.  Sell all the sugary stash once and for all.  I am a dwelling of mess and contradiction and rebellion.  Just take away my sugar and what comes this way isn’t pretty.  My kids, and husband too for that matter, are building me a lean-to in the back field to live in for the duration of lent.  My daughters look at me out of the corner of their little eyes as they hover over their sweet treats. While meditating and contemplating the Lord a chocolate cupcake appeared larger than my garage. 
I need help.
Help, help, help. 
I will pray very hard at Mass.
I will squinch my eyes tightly and pray like mad holding my head of blanched socket-hair. 
I will turn my sensual disordering over to Jesus, although it doesn’t seem a very kind thing to give a friend.

Yet, Jesus wants our selves as they are; our surrender; our trust in His help and healing.  To fast is to face these disorders head on and to deal with them in a spiritual, low blood sugar sort of way.  To allow the Lord to gather all of us and to reconcile the beasts and angels in the desert of the once garden; in the hideous guises of our sins.  I have come to Mass a modern enigma of bolts and parts flailing and falling and noisy in my soul.  I have come to creaky kneel to my Lord and God.  I have come to love making the sign of the cross over my mind, over my lips, and over my, especially over my disheveled heart.

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