Day 45, (Only ONE More Day!) Good Friday Musings

Today has been a glorious day of spring rains, routine errands and family time. Today has not been what I would normally label a successful, productive, or particularly meaningful day, but today this feels perfect.

My mind works in very random, jumpy ways and I have spent most of my life denouncing it as defective. Because of this I have always craved routine, order and discipline, while, at the same time, avoiding, fearing and finding them unattainable. So, normally I would look for validation for my day by naming the things checked off my "to do" list, or by showing a gorgeous family picture and saying "LOOK, I have successfully spent quality time with my nearly-perfect children and husband" or by having a more-spiritual-than-thou day and embracing the chore-boycotting rain with a long meditation and a prayer of gratitude for the water cycle.

But today has been a mix of a little productivity, a little leisure time, a lot of family time, a little watching it rain, some quiet prayer time, and now some blogging time...

and I am so happy! There is no temptation to condemn the "wasting" of time, or to over-analyze the quiet time, or over-glorify the family time. There is just acceptance and joy (**gasps and holds hand over mouth** could this mean I am finally an Adult?).


Today I sat and prayed for an hour (at church we signed up to keep a prayer vigil for 24 hours) and during that time I was able to reflect on the experiences and growth the last 45 days have brought me. I spent time reflecting on why Jesus matters, and how I can relate this fast and what I've learned during these days to living a life that is more Christ-like every day. Well, I must correct myself... "why Jesus matters" is too big a topic for me to tackle in one blog post, but I can at least explain why He matters to me.

I think of Jesus as the greatest metaphysical teacher and spiritual leader of all time, and his teachings are the most practical tools for living a life that is respectful, loving, happy, fulfilled, and meaningful. Jesus teaches us how to free ourselves from our fears and our vices, He models a life of acceptance and meaning, and challenges us to be more, to do more, to matter more.

I used to think that when you gave up something for Lent, or you had to suffer through some unavoidable problem in your life, you would do it and "offer it to God" (as my mother used to say) so that someone somewhere would get some benefit from your suffering. To this day I am not sure that that is what my mother meant, but that's how I always interpreted it:

--My body would willingly hurt somebody for a tortilla chip right now.
--I don't eat the tortilla chip, nor hurt anyone, and I say a prayer offering this bothersome/uncomfortable/painful/annoying/scary/horrible situation to God "for" the hungry kids in Africa/the tsunami victims in Japan/the people with tortilla chip allergies.
--I try to find consolation for my unfulfilled craving in the vague notion that someone somewhere is bothered/uncomfortable/pained/annoyed/scared/horrified less because I just took on some of their plight.

... OK.

Yeah, OK, I still see how that makes sense, and it really is beautifully poetic and generous.

BUT, as I've gotten older I've realized (this year more clearly than ever) that if that is all we get out of our sacrifice, we are almost wasting our time. There is so much more that we can learn from facing our difficulties (be them self imposed or not) if we tackle them with the intention of growing, learning, improving, becoming a better tool for God! (if you don't believe in God, fine, it doesn't matter, replace that with "becoming a better member of society").

The last 45 days have been transformational not because I have said a quiet prayer for people with addictions every time I craved a latte, but because I was freed from my own addictions; not because I thanked God for having food when I was hungry, but because I was shown that I have the strength to handle hunger; not because I have prayed for obese people every time I stepped on the scales and there was no significant change, but because I have realized that the extra weight was self-destructive and I --a child of God made in Her image-- deserve to treat myself better than that. The last 45 days have made me a much better version of myself, and THAT'S what God wants from sacrifice. The better we are the better equipped we are to serve our fellow man!

(Yes, I do realize many of you are probably saying "WOW. She's 40 years old and she only figured that out NOW?" but as much as I am tempted to turn this post into something more self-flattering, I won't. I have always been a late bloomer and I am finally OK with that.)

So now that I am a better version of myself, the question remains... what drastic challenge am I going to give myself next to continue growing towards transcending "myself" and becoming a better person -period?

Day 14, Asking for prayers

Diet wise today has been a good day, thank God. I was not as sleepy in the afternoon, only a little bit around 4PM, really not bad. I had my smoothie for breakfast and around 11:30 I had a protein supplement that you mix with water, I had lots of extra water in case the sleepiness has been due to dehydration.
At 1pm I ate a small salad (mostly lettuce) and when I got home around 5PM I just had more water until dinner. I made a simpler version of the Asian Slaw that we love, and had a lettuce wrap with... you guessed it... broccoli, cauliflower, bell pepper, Savory Brazil Nuts and Guacamole. After dinner I drank a small glass of Orange Juice.

I also weighed and measured myself, I lost another 4 lbs and the inches got smaller too. I will post more about it tomorrow. I was very excited about it this morning but now it seems horribly trite.

L2 has had a fever off and on since Sunday morning. I thought after making her lie down all day on Sunday and Monday that she would be ready to go to school today. But her temperature tonight was 101.4 and her "tummy" continues to hurt in weird ways.

My sisters have suggested recurrent appendicitis, my nephew had a really weird case of it that had the doctors baffled until they operated on him and realized that his appendix was "backwards" (that's why it would not show up in the ultrasounds). We'll be making a lot of calls tomorrow and probably seeing a doctor soon. But I keep asking for, and expecting, guidance. I don't feel right leaving it all up to the doctors, and I know that we could be led clearly to the answer/solution if we can just be quiet long enough to catch it.

I would really appreciate your prayers.


Throughout all this I am grateful that God has helped me to remain very peaceful. It reminds me of a sermon by my college priest, Father Mark, he was talking about Lent and about how Jesus was able to get through his 40 days in the dessert. He said he triumphed because He was Focused on the Father, Firmly rooted in the Word, and Filled with the Spirit, and that that's how we have approach our Lenten journeys.

I don't know that I can claim to be any of those things, but I do know that if I were eating and drinking sweet coffees (and sometimes sweet cocktails) the way I was before Lent I, would NOT be dealing with anything well, let alone this.

Day 8, I can't have French Onion Soup, but I can have white wine!

Today was a good day. God is very good to me.

I am trying to decide what is the best story to share because, well, I served myself from the box o' wine in the fridge three times (small, cheap IKEA wine glasses, not filled all the way of course, not really enough to get me Drunk drunk but...) and I haven't eaten at all today, so I am having trouble typing properly (and I don't completely trust the spell chek).

I'll start with the random visit from The Angel. I was working at district court today, traffic court (does not get any less sexy than this) and the guy I was interpreting for DID NOT GET IT. The prosecutors were bending over backwards to give him a GREAT deal but the guy did not want to take any responsibility for his actions (THIRD DUI!!!) and just didn't get it. I found myself being greatly amused by my ego's catty remarks after every line I interpreted.

Attorney: This is the Guilty Plea Form you have to sign, let's go over the questions: Do yo know you have the right to remain silent?


Me: Este es el formularion que usted tiene que firmar en su declaración de culpabilidad. ¿Sabe que tiene el derecho de quedarse callado?

Guy: Si, si, yo admito que yo estaba manejando borracho, no lo niego, ¿para qué le miento? Es la verdad, y no tenía licencia, no la puedo sacar porque estoy aquí sin papeles, pero todo el mundo igual maneja así, yo por lo menos tengo aseguransa...
(Yes, yes, I admit I was driving drunk, I won't deny it, why would I lie to you? It's the truth; and I didn't have a license, I can't get one because I am here illegally, but everybody drives like that, I at least have insurance...)

My Ego: You are such a moron!

Etc (this went on for every one of the 20 something questions on that "routine" form)

Finally the attorney went to check on something and asked me to wait (we are out in the hallway in front of the court room), the Moron tries to make conversation, I pretend to be getting a text message on my phone (not only do I not want to make conversation, we, Certified Interpreters,  are not supposed to), then I feel "someone" pull on the back of my suit jacket, right smack in the center of the back edge, on my back, nothing there to pull on it, no one standing behind me. I quickly turned and saw that indeed there was no one, and immediately got it. I was not creeped out, just slightly remorseful. I said a prayer in my head, basically "sorry God for being such an impatient know it all, I should not be making these comments, even if they are just in my head, thanks for the gentle reminder, I'm sorry". Then I went home and told the kids about it.

Now I'm going to tell you sort of a story. I wish I could re-create the dinner I had with the girls today. By the time I got home and faced the never ending "list of things to do and projects yet unfinished" I started feeling a bit, oh, what's the word? Oh yeah, Bitchy.
By 6 I realized I was well on my way to ruining their evening and had already "ruined" mine, so I went to my room to pray and try to get out of my funk. I ended up tapping a few rounds (I know it sounds dirty, but it's EFT, Emotional Freedom Technique, which looks goofy but TOTALLY WORKS (as in, if you were my favorite brother and had just come back from Afghanistan with PTSD, this is the first thing I would recommend) I could not be more serious about this!!). I immediately felt better and went out to get dinner on the table.

Turns out EFT and white wine (did I mention it s RAW, sweet Lord, thank you!) are a great combination. I was much more calm and in particularly rare form with my motherly comedy. We ate salads in between lots of goofy jokes and big belly laughs. This turned out to be an awesome night...

But wait, there's one more story, it's the best one yet...

Earlier in the evening I was already feeling a little crabby and I was pretty annoyed over something or other (I'm sure it was extremely important), I was in the bedroom folding laundry, L2 was reading in the kitchen, and L1 (age 14) was in her room, next door to mine. I heard her suddenly drop what she was doing and purposefully walk into my bedroom, while saying "Oh!" (as in, I just remembered). She came up to me and gave me a big, lingering hug.

She has always been a great hugger, both my kids are, thank God, old ladies at church are always asking for "their" hugs before they leave. She is my height now but about half my girth, so she feels so little, and she has this thick head of healthy, gorgeous hair that usually gets in my face when we hug (now I get what my mom always said about my curls in her face). She smells clean and is warm. Her energy calms me.

Then she lets go and very matter of factly walks back into her room. Halfway there she turns very casually and says "that hug was from Jesus by the way".

...


.....

.........



Then I went to her room and smacked her on the arm for making me cry.


Update: Please, please go here to read a correction to this post, I really DID eat, what I said up there was a big typo.