My sister has given me a wonderful gift, in the last month. She brought me back to the place we grew up in, the playground of my youth. This is the woods behind the house I grew up in. It had as much to do with my formation as did growing in the womb. As I entered yesterday, immediately I felt a sense of it being a part of me, of home and of youth, of a letting go of the business of life and entering into rest and refreshment.

We picked our way through, locating the old paths, reminding ourselves of some of our old adventure and the silly things we used to do. For instance, picking snake grass and pretending we were smoking. How funny, that that would delight us so, and give us such a feeling of being grownup. We found the place we use to go across the creek on an old pipe. The younger ones scooching across on their fannies, and that sure sign of daring and maturity when you could walk across it like on a tightrope. They have put a brigde over it now, probably the age of lawsuits made them succumb. This is the place where we made up many tales of fantasy and played them out, where boys of the neighborhoods raced their minibikes that they built at home and would occasionally take us girls for a ride. This is where we learned about many animals, climbed our trees, made secret hiding places, hid buried tresures, had bonfires with our Dads in the fall, and ice skated in the winter and eventually had our first kisses and held hands with our first boyfriends. This is where the seasons of life were so fully formed in me that I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I scoff at people who want to move south. To miss the beauty of and ice storm or that first fall of snows in the trees, the brilliant colors of the fall and the smell of molding leaves that have fallen and crunch beneath your feet. The warmth and love you feel by a campfire. The wonderful canopy of shade and cool on a hot summer day and the beauty and exitement you experience as you see the little green mist entering the forest after a cold winter. This is all home. This is the heart of me.

These are the pretty tulips I planted last fall. Such a delight to see them come up out of the ground and a reward for getting those bulbs in the ground last year rather than procrastinating until it's too late. I planted them by the birdbath that we got as a gift from friends after Ed's mom died last year. Nice to make another spot in my yard a little prettier than before and then have it turn your thoughts to someone you love.

Fasting

I've been asking God to let me hear from Him on a certain subject. It had to do with accepting a new task. I had an inkling that I might consider it, and yet I had just been telling friends recently, that most of the time I really just feel like I'm barely staying on top of my life. I have this mental "to do list" that is running in front of me all the time and I'm always trying to go after and achieve the top priority and there is a continual heavy sense of guilt that I drag around with me over all that get's left until next week. I mentioned this to the aforementioned friends, wondering "why" all the guilt, when mostly what I'm trying to do is be the kind of person that God wants me to be. I know God doesn't want my life to be one big "guilt trip" and these feelings came from a darker place that wants me to never experience joy.
So on the way to church yesterday, with these questions on my heart, I hear a little thought from God about Lent and fasting and I knew he was answering my concerns. Now I grew up Catholic, where much was made of Lent and "giving up something" for Lent was pretty much required. Well, I was lousy at it. I don't remember a single time making it through without failing at it. Each and every year I'd make the required promise and each and every year I would blow it. And each and every year I would feel the terrible guilt because I am now guilty of breaking a promise to God. I was pretty sure hell awaited me for that. Fast forward to my adult life. I'm now a protestant. They aren't quite so much into all the legal sacrifices. If you wanted to fast or give something up, it was suppossed to be out of a prompting of the heart and your love for God. No pressure, no prescribed times and dates. I secretely and happily said "goodbye to Lent for me" glad to throw off another activity that made me keenly aware of my short comings and learned to think of myself as "just not that disciplined" Then God does a funny thing. He gives me three daughters, who all grow up and start participating in Lent all on their own. No promptings from me, never much mentioned in the house and all on their own they begin entering times of fasting from things, or foods, or certain activities. And they are all able to complete it. Back comes the nagging guilt. "What's wrong with me", I think.
Well Lent came and went again this year, I didn't even consider giving it a nod, because I'm not that kind of person. Then yesterday God gives me this prompting "You know Karen, Lent doesn't have to be at a certain season. And don't you know that it is just away of helping you weed out the things that come in to your life and claim parts of you and steal a quality of life from you that I intended you to have" Immediately I thought of two different games that I play on the computer that I'm totally addicted to. Anytime I have a pause in my day, or anytime I don't want to tackle a job, I use them to fill my life and to distract myself from the fact that I have entered into the avoidance game. I know these games are a waste of my precious time, and yet I always want to work on that tomorrow. Well, Lent starts for me today. 40 days without my any computer games. May God have mercy on me. Just the fact that I have said "no" to the games, makes me realize how strong their pull is on me. I want to play and I want to play bad. Well, I'm not going to agree with that voice that tells me "I'm not a disciplined person" anymore. God will complete the good work he has begun in me. That is his word and I believe it.