Lent

Oh, the Lenten season...the time period when you will hear nearly all Catholic men (or men married to Catholic women) grumbling on Friday that once again, we are having cheese pizza. Last year, my mind wasn't thinking about meat, besides...being pregnant, over 55, under 14 or under health restrictions...the church says not to give up meat. So, I didn't "give up" anything for Lent like I was always have done. I didn't fast on Ash Wednesday or Good Friday. Again...pregnant, but in reality the days just slipped by without a thought. My thoughts were consumed with my son and his well being. Guess I had a small taste of what Mary must have felt like watching her Son march to His death. I was watching my son tackle his own demons and standing by helplessly...letting God's will be done.
Usually I give up the standard of meat along with something else that is harder for me, more of a sacrifice. In the past some of my choices were my standard radio station for a Christian channel, potato chips (that was HARD) and ice cream.
Lent is a time to repent and reflect, to sacrifice something of ourselves for the ultimate sacrifice Jesus did for us and our souls. No, I do not believe God will be mad,sad or even give a second thought if we eat a hamburger. I do think His smile will be a bit broader when He sees we are trying to better ourselves, no matter how little, when He hears our quiet thank you for His sacrifice. Giving up food is often thought of as the easiest way, it just doesn't take much thought. Oh, I can't have chocolate...then I'll just snack on Skittles to get my sugar rush. Yeah...not exactly the true meaning of "giving up" huh?
Thinking back to last year, I realized I DID actually give up something. I gave up my selfish attempts of control. That was the hardest sacrifice I'd ever done. I look back now and see I was completely willing, though you couldn't tell through the fits, tears and all out temper tantrums I was going through. hee hee, pregnancy hormones...gotta love em! This year however, I'm up for another challenge...I'm going to give up my pride. I will swallow it down with a grain of salt and finally ask for help. Not necessarily for me, though it would be me if that makes sense, but for my family. Like I have said in a previous post, things are finally getting to be too much and I am at my breaking point. I yell at William simply for being a little boy, I huff and puff when Matthew spits up, I roll my eyes when Ian vents about his day at work...I'm not where I need to be. And my lack of patience is showing because everything else is all spent. My reserves are at the lowest they have ever been. Last night Ian and I prayed together. He prayed for me, for my strength, my health and my well being. I just cried. It was a good release. It was good to be cared for by my husband that I am supposed to dote over.
So am I asking for prayers for me, something I have never done! I ask for prayers for Matthew ALL the time but I don't like showing weakness...and asking for prayers for oneself...I always thought was a sign of weakness. I now realize it takes a lot of strength to do so. My first small step in overcoming my pride.