First Sunday of Lent: Repentance

image of raised hands courtesy deconstructedchristian.files.wordpress.comFrom Bread and Wine, part of a reading from Barbara Cawthorne Crafton:

We didn’t even know what moderation was.  What it felt like.  We didn’t just work:  we inhaled our jobs, sucked them in, became them.  Stayed late, brought work home – it was never enough, though, no matter how much time we put in.

We didn’t just smoke:  we lit up a cigarette, only to realize we already had one going in the ashtray.

We ordered things we didn’t need from the shiny catalogs that come to our houses:  we ordered three times as much as we could use, and then we ordered three times as much as our children could use.

We didn’t just eat:  we stuffed ourselves.  We had gained only three pounds since the previous year, we told ourselves.  Three pounds is not a lot.  We had gained about that much in each of the twenty-five years since high school.  We did not do the math….

There were times, coming into the house from work or waking early when all was quiet, when we felt uneasy about the sense of entitlement that characterized all our days.  When we wondered if fevered overwork and excess of appetite were not two sides of the same coin – or rather, two poles between which we madly slalomed.  Probably yes, we decided at these times.  Suddenly we saw it all clearly:  I am am driven by my creatures – my schedule, my work, my possessions, my hungers.  I do not drive them; they drive me.  Probably yes.  Certainly yes.  This is how it is. We arose and did twenty sit-ups.  The next day the moment had passed; we did none….

When did the collision between our appetites and the needs of our souls happen?  Was there a heart attack?  Did we get laid off from work, one of the thousands certified as extraneous?  Did a beloved child become a board stranger, a marriage fall silent and cold?  Or, by some exquisite working of God’s grace, did we just find the courage to look the truth in the eye and, for once, not blink?  How did we come to know that we were dying a slow and unacknowledged death?  And that the only way back to life was to set all our packages down and begin again, carrying with us only what we really needed?

We travail.  We are heavy laden.  Refresh us, O homeless, jobless, possession-less Savior.  You came naked, and naked you go.  And so it is for us.  So it is for all of us.


About Sharon Autenrieth

Wife, mom to 5, homeschooler, Christian Education Director, idealist, malcontent, follower of Jesus.
This entry was posted in Lent, spirituality and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s