It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
-John 13:1 NIV
I was not prepared for how insanely busy these middle-aged years of my life would be. Some days it seems the currents and tides of life are completely overwhelming.
All three of my sons played baseball on different teams this spring. Two are still playing. We are at the baseball fields for approximately eleventy-million hours each week.
My daughter has dance classes on opposite ends of town twice a week, and her class schedule coordinates with baseball zero percent of the time.
My husband has a demanding job as a pastor, and in addition to that he’s coaching those baseball teams and working on a graduate degree in his not-so spare time.
I’m writing my first book, homeschooling my kids, volunteering at church, and suffering from a severe case of kid-taxi-driver-itis. The undertow of sitting in the car so much feels near-fatal. I’m basically half dead.
Despite our hectic schedule, every one of my people believes they need to eat three meals a day. Providing this food seems to be my main purpose in their lives besides taxi driver and laundress. I have failed in my best efforts to convince everyone in my house to decrease our laundry situation by embracing a new pioneer-style capsule wardrobe in which we wear the same outfit all week, and save one nice outfit for Sundays. But the dream lives on in my heart, you guys.
Back when Easter was approaching, I tried to set my too-busy heart on the Resurrection miracle in between washing red dirt out of baseball pants and boiling noodles. #ughspaghettiagain #jesuscomesoon
I never needed Lent as desperately as I did this year. I needed to fast from something, to set aside one kind of comfort, so I could find a better one.
As I prayed about what to set aside for Lent this year, I decided to give up online shopping. Despite the convenience and simplicity of clicking a button to order groceries/light bulbs/new baseball cleats delivered to my door, I needed to simplify my own internal life.
I thought giving up online shopping during Lent could give me a quieter, slower life for forty days. In fact, it gave me even more than I expected, in the form of 4 lessons:
1. Making Do
We ran out of napkins first, and I couldn’t get to the store for a few days. We made do: paper towels, Kleenex, rags, the backs of our hands (my kids loved this). “Making do” is a lost art, and possibly the reason our grandmothers did not feel the pressure of perfection our generation faces. A bar of soap instead of our favorite body wash will be just fine for two days. My half-stocked pantry is not a sign of the end of civilization as we know it. We can eat the same cereal for a week if it is all we have. Cornflakes are enough. I am enough. You are enough.
2. Appreciating Beauty
I saw Instagram posts selling the loveliest things during Lent this year. I wanted to buy new earrings, new books, new leggings, new everything many times. This fasting has made me realize my own heart’s propensity to want to own beauty instead of simply enjoying it. This new practice of admiring a thing and then moving on with my day has been freeing in unexpected ways. It is a revelation to be able to mentally collect beauty and not have to take dominion of some sort and make a purchase.
3. Being Present
I read twice as much as I did before Lent, because I had more downtime at home. I played more games with my kids. I remembered to move the load from the washer into the dryer with increasing alacrity. I had more time to pray, to notice the needs my children and husband have that aren’t task-oriented, but are instead rooted in soulful places. I didn’t realize that all of my online multitasking was actually making me less present and more scattered.
4. Being Patient
Because I was not “grabbing”, “consuming”, and “tasting” everything we needed or wanted so much, I enjoyed each day as it came. I was aware of our circumstances in need of solutions: we were out of snack foods, my son had outgrown his pants, and eventually I knew I’d have to find a new Fitbit band that didn’t hurt my arm. But I didn’t feel pressured to resolve all those problems the moment they arose. I was satisfied with the simple joy of today, here, and now. Tomorrow, there, and then would take care of itself.
Since Lent ended, I’ve shopped online again, but with less distracted dedication. As with any spiritual discipline, the benefit of this fast is an increased awareness that God’s presence is with me always. Isaiah 58 says that the purpose of fasting is “to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke“. Yes. Yes, that sounds a bit like my Lenten journey this year.
I can see now how these middle-aged years are full of opportunities to love my family to the very end by embracing all the baseball, ballet, taxi driving, church meetings, laundry, dishes, and cooking. Someday I won’t have them all here to need me for so much, and that will be weird, sad, and wonderful all at the same time. I feel the tide of how all of life flows from out from His Love, then washes us back into His Love.
I look at our packed calendar now, and I am grateful.
It is well with my soul.
