Growth through Reading for Lent

"Gradually my perspective on time had changed. In our culture, time can seem like an enemy: it chews us up and spits us out with appalling ease. But the monastic perspective welcomes time as a gift from God, and seeks to put it to good use rather than allowing us to be used up by it."

Norris, Kathleen 1997 "The Cloister Walk" (1st ed. paperback). New York, New York: Riverhead Books (Preface xix)

For Lent, I have decided that my offering (or fast) will be more of my time than of a physical object or food of desire. For other reasons, coffee is left out of my diet two days a week. One day a week, television is removed and replaced with some sort of spiritual study. What remains are: 5 days where my coffee habit can be fed, 6 days that do not require God to be learned about, and 7 days where I use my time to please myself or am too lazy to use it wisely.

As a young girl, growing up out in the country under the guidance of parents who cared too much for my character to let me fritter away my days watching television or gossiping on the phone, I read the Bible daily, prayed daily (especially over my food), and went to Mass weekly. My spirituality was spoon fed to me. Not to say that my belief and prayer was not my own, it was, but that being spiritual was incredibly easy because of the atmosphere that my family created.

When I grew up (or at least I thought I was growing up) and moved away, I still attended Mass weekly, prayed often, and always over my food. My Bible reading and study occurred at random. Recently, I have noticed that even though I attend Mass (mostly) weekly, my prayer doesn't really have a life of it's own, I have caught myself forgetting to pray over my food, and my Bible reading is pathetically rare.

What occurred? I would like to blame it on life, on work, or on anything and anyone else, but I can not. Priorities set for me as a child have become forgotten like a dusty set of skates in the corner or doll stuffed away in a box labeled: For when I have girls. I don't want my spiritual life to be only for my children or only when the neighbors can see. I long for the spiritual life of my childhood with the maturity of my adulthood. I long for the passion I once had, when I had little else.

What can I do? Sacrifice my time. Sacrifice is meant to hurt, and I believe it will. If I wish to survive and see Heaven without first passing through Purgatory, I know that I must now tear myself away from those things which have surpassed in importance my relationship with Jesus. I must strip away all of the distractions, the DVR, Facebook, and any object that comes before Christ in importance. Before all, Jesus must come first. Even before I stand in the presence of Christ, I want to know that my life is not a list of one night conversions followed by years of regress.

One day at a time, I intend to approach His throne, asking for His aid, asking for his healing, asking to be converted a little more each day. May God have mercy on my soul and raise me on the last day.