Lent Day 1: A Below Average Start

 

A few years ago I gave up social media and determined to blog EVERY single day for Lent. It was quite an undertaking. This year I am determined to do it again. 

I would have to check but I suspect that my first blog from my last Lent marathon was probably pretty rousing and inspired. This year my first day of Lent has just been too kak (sorry no other word works here) to start on that note... but there were some moments in my day that couldn't have just been coincidence, no matter how average my day has been.

This morning as Stephen drove out our driveway with the kids on their way to school he did one of his favourite things - he called out the window, once he was out of striking distance, that he had forgotten to take the rubbish out. For the sake of this sacred time on the Christian calendar I will refrain from describing some of the language that started to form on my lips.

I went to collect said rubbish bags and as I lifted the first one up the bottom of the bag burst open and scattered a week of leftovers all over my shoes and the floor. For the sake of this sacred time on the Christian calendar I will, again, refrain from describing some of the language that started to form on my lips.

I then rebagged the whole thing and was stumbling out onto the driveway covered in old two minute noodles and casserole when a Corolla started to ease its way down the road towards me. Given the load I was carrying I felt the driver could have driven a little faster. He then actually started to slow down as he approached me making my ungainly walk even more awkward. I started to mutter some invectives under my breath but for the sake of this sacred time on the Christian calendar I will refrain...

Turns out it was our beloved ex neighbour Mike Bishop who cheerfully greeted me as I stumbled along squishing guacamole between my toes. 

I deposited my rubbish, waved a hello as he drove past, decontaminated myself and headed for work. 

Our day started with our Ash Wednesday service in the chapel. And who should be preaching the sermon but our beloved ex neighbour Mike Bishop. His message was wonderful and a stand out moment was understanding what repentance means - to turn away, to start in a new direction. That makes a lot more sense than flagellation and deprivation. It means choosing to go the direction that heads towards Christ, and towards the light.

It was a beautiful service conducted by two of my favourite people - the Reverends Kym and Mike Bishop - and in that there is sacredness. There's something holy about two people who choose to marry each other and then serve Christ together as ministers.

I also happened to be sitting directly underneath Kym as she put the mark of the cross in ash on the foreheads of our boys. You can love a kid. And as each boy vulnerably stood before her - for once still, focussed and reverent I felt overwhelmed with a sense of deep love for each one - because, as their teacher, I know how complicated, beautiful, challenging, delightful and complex each boy is. And I know how loved they are beyond the human realm.

So after gathering my thoughts after the service I made my way out the chapel. Mike was headed the same way and we laughed about my rubbish debacle in the morning but I said how beautiful and grounding his service had been. We then went our different ways and as I turned to head to my classroom Mike shouted out, 'I hope your day improves'. As he said this I slipped on the muddy pavement, fell arse over kettle and landed hard on one knee cap in the mud. That's quite a lot of body weight on one poor knee cap.  For the sake of this sacred time on the Christian calendar ... I did, however, shout out, 'It hasn't improved yet Mike!'

I picked myself up and gingerly surveyed the damage. People rushed over and showed concern. 

Needless to say I had to go home, bath, dress my wound, dress myself and head back to school. My classes all showed very kind empathy despite the fact that most of them have a continuous roasty somewhere on their bodies, or an injury of some form - because they are, after all, boys. I'm afraid my roasty is a little lame and not nearly dramatic enough for the average teenage boy. 

I explained to them that it was my intention to do my Lent blog marathon again but that my first day of Lent had a pretty average start. And then a sage Grade 11 boy replied, 'Its ok ma'am, its not about how you start, but rather how you end.' 

And he's right. I can dwell on the bad parts of my day and the growing pain radiating from my knee or I can thank God that in both my moments of humanness Mike Bishop happened to be there, and his message for the day is to turn away from our humanness towards the light. And so today as I limber up for my Lent blogging marathon I'm going to repent - turn away from whining, feeling beige, finding only the negatives, leaving God the dregs of my day, from social media, and distraction, and pointless screen time - to change my direction. Because I may be beginning from a below average start but at least I'm making a start, its about where I'm headed, not where I've come from.