Mommy Needs Chocolate
by Rachel Balducci in Faith on Monday, March 28, 2011 6:00 AM
Lenten seasons come and go, and some are so much more impressive than others.
Last year, Lent rolled around and I found myself lumbering about, living life as a large, tired woman who could barely bend down to put on her own socks. I was in the final weeks of what had been a very good pregnancy, due in large part to my wit and intellect. Early on I had decided to pace myself and that approach had served me well.
So in those weeks before Ash Wednesday last year, as Paul and I discussed our plans for the Lenten season, I was working hard to keep it real. Some of the little luxuries we try to avoid during Lent—things like ice cream and television and going out to eat—well giving up these things was simply out of the question.
But the more we discussed it, and as we prayerfully considered how we could best fast during the 40 days of Lent, I had a crazy thought.
I would give up chocolate.
I wanted Jesus to know, in the midst of my little suffering of these final weeks of pregnancy, that I still wanted to make a sacrifice of love for him. Giving up this one small thing just wan’t that epic, was it?
Except, as it turns out, it totally was. It was insanely epic, as a matter of fact.
My plan lasted three days before I realized (and everyone in my life concurred) that I just needed to have chocolate. Yes, I could live without it. And it was good and virtuous to show Jesus my love. But the best plan for me as a woman in my delicate condition was to focus on getting through those last few weeks with a happy heart.
So I threw off the sack-cloth of chocolate-free living and focused instead on caring for my unborn baby by not being totally stressed out. I opted to pray more and complain less, and to be a joy-filled mother to my boys.
A year later, I laugh at how emotional the chocolate issue made me. This year, however, I am no longer that nine-month-pregnant woman and frankly, I am in no position to judge her.
There was a time, years ago, when my motto for Lenten sacrifices was “shoot the moon!” I have had seasons, beautiful, glorious liturgical seasons when I could not decide which of my little luxuries I would miss the most, so I opted to fast from all of them.
One year in college, my roommates and I gave up bread, and meat and listening to the radio. We also attended daily Mass. Somehow, our 18-year-old selves had the stamina and wherewithal to be Capuchin monks (who happened to be college freshmen).
Most years are somewhere in between these two extremes. Since I’ve become a wife and mother, the details of my life have a great effect on what I am able to tackle each Lenten season. There are years when family prayer flourishes in our home, when I clearly understand the ways I have been challenged and grown.
And then there are those dry seasons when I don’t understand or recognize the fruit until later. Some days and weeks, I am doing good to put one foot in front of the other. There are times when I struggle because I don’t recognize any growth in my life beyond getting through another day.
But there is always growing, even if we don’t see the fruit right away. In family life there are seasons when we can actually sense ourselves growing in virtue—seemingly on an hourly basis! And there are also plenty of winters, times when we can almost lose sight of the big picture because we are working so hard to simply care for basic needs.
But we grow in all these seasons, the lush and the arid. We look forward with great expectation, while also gleaning from this moment everything that God would have for us.
The liturgical seasons of motherhood—of family life—pose plenty of challenges, opportunities for growth, the chance to stretch and do better. Sometimes the growth is merely the act of getting through.
— Faith & Family Live blogger Rachel Balducci also blogs at Testosterhome. This column originally appeared in the Southern Cross.
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