a lenten journey
Lent.
A time of preparation, of thoughtfulness, of intentionality. All words and concepts I love and have reflected on many times.
Fasting for lent for me has often been about choosing where to invest energy and about being aware of which energy sources I draw from (sometimes quite literally as our family tradition during my childhood was to give up electrical light for the season). Screen-free Sabbaths, or taking on exercise or spiritual practices are all ways I have been intentional during lent over the past few years. And even the diet related fasting, giving up sugar or caffeine, is an intentional choice about energy sources.
Yet this lent I am in a unique place, which is to say that I am not in one place at all. Instead I'm on a very physical journey across many places in the Middle East. And on a journey it is hard to be intentional about little things like diet and routine and chocolate consumption - especially on journeys in foreign countries where one is alone most of the time and trying to be humble and accept hospitality. Such a journey doesn't really lend itself to fasting. (Which is also why my wonderful seamstress/best of friends I decided not to take my measurements for my wedding dress until I get back).
But the 40 days of lent have begun, and my penchant for the idea of being intentional is raging against letting the season pass with no extra effort expended. And as I reflect on how to make this lenten journey intentional, I am struck by something about this journey that was completely unintentional: that this journey has as it's last stop a weekend in Jerusalem over the Easter holiday. I cannot help but reflect that during this Lenten season, where I am getting daily emailed reflections about Jesus' journey to Jerusalem from my home church, I to am on a physical journey to the same city - and especially that this parallel itinerary developed without intention. That I, who take so much pride at times - or berate myself into depressive spirals at others - about living intentionally, have created such a beautiful lenten itinerary for my journey without putting much thought into it.
In my planning for the next stage of my journey, the next half of my 3 months of travel, I was intentional about many things - such as applying to volunteer with Tent of Nations in occupied West Bank and deciding to splurge on lodging to invest in an organic farm while I hike the Jesus Trail - but not about where I would spend Easter.
I wonder about the lessens therein. About the delightful possibilities that develop without putting too much pressure on them. About how the things I forgot to think about while planning may yet turn out to be the most meaningful. About where I am investing energy in my planning, and where things are simply fitting together to give me energy - is that what we call the hand of God? (And I wonder if I might incorporate that lesson about my lenten planning into my wedding planning.)
A time of preparation, of thoughtfulness, of intentionality. All words and concepts I love and have reflected on many times.
Fasting for lent for me has often been about choosing where to invest energy and about being aware of which energy sources I draw from (sometimes quite literally as our family tradition during my childhood was to give up electrical light for the season). Screen-free Sabbaths, or taking on exercise or spiritual practices are all ways I have been intentional during lent over the past few years. And even the diet related fasting, giving up sugar or caffeine, is an intentional choice about energy sources.
Yet this lent I am in a unique place, which is to say that I am not in one place at all. Instead I'm on a very physical journey across many places in the Middle East. And on a journey it is hard to be intentional about little things like diet and routine and chocolate consumption - especially on journeys in foreign countries where one is alone most of the time and trying to be humble and accept hospitality. Such a journey doesn't really lend itself to fasting. (Which is also why my wonderful seamstress/best of friends I decided not to take my measurements for my wedding dress until I get back).
But the 40 days of lent have begun, and my penchant for the idea of being intentional is raging against letting the season pass with no extra effort expended. And as I reflect on how to make this lenten journey intentional, I am struck by something about this journey that was completely unintentional: that this journey has as it's last stop a weekend in Jerusalem over the Easter holiday. I cannot help but reflect that during this Lenten season, where I am getting daily emailed reflections about Jesus' journey to Jerusalem from my home church, I to am on a physical journey to the same city - and especially that this parallel itinerary developed without intention. That I, who take so much pride at times - or berate myself into depressive spirals at others - about living intentionally, have created such a beautiful lenten itinerary for my journey without putting much thought into it.
In my planning for the next stage of my journey, the next half of my 3 months of travel, I was intentional about many things - such as applying to volunteer with Tent of Nations in occupied West Bank and deciding to splurge on lodging to invest in an organic farm while I hike the Jesus Trail - but not about where I would spend Easter.
I wonder about the lessens therein. About the delightful possibilities that develop without putting too much pressure on them. About how the things I forgot to think about while planning may yet turn out to be the most meaningful. About where I am investing energy in my planning, and where things are simply fitting together to give me energy - is that what we call the hand of God? (And I wonder if I might incorporate that lesson about my lenten planning into my wedding planning.)
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