Sometimes I feel I am hopelessly broken. And I would be, if it were not for Christ.
In my heart, I committed to participate in Lent. I had always thought it to be a "Catholic thing", although I realize there are other denominations who observe the season. I know I am not observing it as some observe, although there seems to much variety in how it is carried out among Christian groups.
While I have been working on eating healthier, I have so struggled over whether I should eat what the Old Testament defines as "unclean meat". This is more difficult than I thought, as pork and shellfish are staples in our culture's diet.
I know it is not a matter of salvation, but it has been my heart's cry to be set apart and pure before the Lord- to please the One I love. I recall the days when my relationship with my husband was beginning to blossom, and I desired to know his likes and dislikes. I so wanted to please him in all things. Should I not desire to please the Lord as well? Should I not seek to understand His likes and dislikes? Should I not love the things He loves and hate the things He hates?
So, as Lent came, I purposed within myself that I would set aside those unclean meats. Such a small sacrifice, in the grand scheme of things. Yet I found myself struggling...
...Standing in the grocery store, picking up a package of bratwurst and placing it in the cart, then returning it to the cooler as I remembered my commitment.
...Preparing a pepperoni pizza for my family, settling on a bowl of granola for myself, and absent-mindedly grabbing on a small slice to nibble on before I realized what I was doing.
...Slicing authentic cajun tasso my husband had defrosted for me to season the pot of mixed beans and slipping a piece into my mouth. It wasn't until I had already swallowed it that it hit me... tasso is pork.
I felt such disgust- how can I love my Lord so little? How can I so easily forget my commitment to Him? How grateful I am that He does not forget His promises and His covenant!
I stumble to consider Him in all things, but He always considers me. Seeing my failures and my struggles in the shadow of His faithfulness brings sorrow mixed with joy. I am sorrowful because I want to please my Father, but I am like a clumsy child. I rejoice because He is full of mercy and grace, forgiving me where I fall short, and still upholding His Promise to me. I rejoice because Christ did not falter or stumble.
And, I am so thankful that my frailty causes me to love Him more.