On Lent and Cravings

 

Pressing in and pressing on is pushing against the tide of sin and disbelief, and pushing towards what you've made a habit of clinging to in calmer waters: that Jesus is enough.

Ruth Chou Simons

 

 

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We are in the final days of Lent.  Four more days of meatless meals.  As I type my mouth is watering for a morsel of steak.  Within the last two weeks commercials featuring beefy sandwiches have prompted us to switch channels.  Recently, whilst ordering an Americano I was visually assaulted by an advertisement for BBQ Beef Brisket on Sourdough, which apparently Starbucks is now offering.  I have ceased scouring the Internet for "fun-family-friendly-vegetarian-recipes-that-satisfy." I have hit my black-bean-as-an-alternative limit.  In fact, we ordered take out twice over the weekend to avoid the final "Delicious Black Bean Burrito" recipe that promises they are "soooo good you'll want to have them every night."  I'm sure they are.  But. We. Just. Can't.  Days ago, I told Jeff that I actually feel the absence of iron in my blood.  Perhaps I should have considered iron supplements.

 

The more I have considered my sudden obsession with meat consumption, the more significant the act of giving something up has meant to me.  Previously I have given up, among other things, bread (a sixth love language), potatoes (a comfort), television (a favorite pastime), and secular music (a source of entertainment).  While I have missed each of those things throughout the forty days, I do not recall feeling the absence of them so distinctly.  These cravings have illuminated what it means for me to long for something.  While being confronted with my ever increasing desire to consume a triple cheeseburger, which in all honestly seems embarrassingly trivial, an even greater realization has taken shape in my heart and mind.  So often, what it is I'm longing for is temporal. 

The season of Lent is about anticipation, remembrance, slowing one's pace, engaging, embracing the ache, awaiting the promise of all things renewed.  We give up in order that we might be filled - filled with His Spirit that stirs our souls, filled with His love that satisfies the deepest longings of our hearts, filled with the knowledge that He is making all things new, filled with hope for that which is unseen and yet to come. 

This past Sunday, as the lyrics for "Hosanna" were projected and I sang the following I was overcome with an ache to live out my days with greater clarity and purpose.

Heal my heart and make it clean
Open up my eyes to the things unseen
Show me how to love like you have loved me

Break my heart for what breaks yours
Everything I am for Your kingdom's cause
As I walk from earth into eternity

May my eyes look beyond the many temporal cravings and temptations before me, may my heart break for that which breaks His, may I catch a vision for that which is greater than what my eyes alone can see, and may I savor the flavor of the perfectly grilled burger that awaits me Sunday.