Sometimes Lent mandates a deeper action of faith. I’ve often wondered what it would look like if I actually ordered my days with a “Jesus first” mentality. This week will find me in the Adoration Chapel once again staking my flag in the ground and laying down my worries to Jesus.
Ironic how I will enter so boldly, and yet so tentatively place my worries at His feet (again). The kids can join me, or they can stay home. This is for me, not them. Well, it is for them, but they need not participate. This is my offering. That is what a fast is, an offering.
There is a passage in Mark 9:29, where the Apostles try to remove an evil spirit from a child, and they are unable. Jesus replies: “This one cannot come out except by prayer.” Sometimes in addition to prayer, we dig deeper.
As Catholics, we have been raised with fasting and almsgiving, especially in Lent. As parents, we face situations beyond our abilities. We can worry, or we can talk it out. We can obsess, or we can let go. We can control, or we can surrender.
Parenting often finds me on my knees. Whether they be 10 years old or 21, for them to know the Lord is my heart’s desire. But that is not something I can make happen. I truly struggle with that because I have dedicated my life to helping them forge a relationship with the Lord, and their problems would be so much easier if they had Him as the crossing guard instead of, well, anyone else, and yet the choice is theirs to make.
I am pondering this desire to fast. As truth be told, however, I am not a particularly good faster. But I have prayed all my prayers and asked close friends to pray as well, and I feel called to more. I feel as if this intention needs me to believe that my offering is enough. There is something to be learned here for me while I offer this intention.
An image of the Apostles sent out two by two to preach and heal comes to mind. “Me?” they must have asked. “I am not You. I cannot heal.” And yet, He bid them go, and He was with them. I imagine them growing in wisdom and fortitude as they feel Him working through them.
Fasting for me is this “yes” to Jesus. It is the realization that my “yes” witnesses so much to the Lord. I will go. I will sacrifice. You are working here in me and in my intention. You are for me, and I am showing You through this fast that I am for You. I know I will need to draw more closely to You in this time, and that I might be tempted to turn back.
I imagine the Apostles tempted to turn back when “just prayer” did not heal. Steady the course. Press in deeper, He says. St. Peter Chrysologus reminds us that “fasting is the soul of prayer.” When I listen to music and a song has soul, I feel its depth. That is what fasting does. Fasting gives depth to our prayer.
But what if it doesn’t fix the problem? I can already hear myself getting frustrated that my offering didn’t “work.” I must guard myself against that worldly thinking. I know my tendencies. Here is my offering, Lord. Use it this way. Oh, how I love to control things!
I steady my thoughts. Lord, teach me, mold me, form me that I may grow more in sacrificing for the good of another. Teach me humility as I trust Your plan more than mine. Let me enter this fast not looking to just do more to solve a problem, but trusting that You are the more, and I am uniting myself to You with this offering.
May we all grow in this practice as we enter into our Lenten journey. Pray for me as I pray for you. Jesus, I trust in You.
