Years ago, a wise friend shared that she doesn’t pick her Lenten penance anymore, because God knows what she needs during the season of Lent and she trusts Him to send that penance her way at the right time. (I’ve probably written the same thing elsewhere on this blog. I’m consistent that way 🤣.)
I immediately adopted the practice and almost immediately as well saw the blessing in it. That year, I was “blessed” with the gift of pain from a crick in my neck, seemingly having come out of nowhere, and lasted for about ten days.
Since then, God has sent me various penances to suffer from every Lent. Sometimes it still takes me by surprise. But then I soon enough recognize it: “Ah, here it is.”
Last week, the Friday after Ash Wednesday, I splattered my face and arm while blending hot soup in the Vitamix. I was in agony for about three hours while my family members ran here and there trying to help me find relief. For over two hours I sat by the bathtub, my hand and arm in a Pyrex casserole filled with ice and water, my face covered by an icy cold washcloth, the water dripping into my shirt and legs. I had several blisters on my face, one I popped accidentally almost as soon as it appeared, the red skin showing underneath. A week later, I still have spots in various shades of pink and brown and gray, but I don’t think you can tell that I suffered from the burns. My arm has a pinkish splotch that looks like a Rorschach test, but that’s the most visible reminder of what happened.
Awareness of what suffering is, and what it’s for, is such a gift for a Catholic. In those hours when I was really feeling the burn and stinging in several spots — my cheeks, forehead, jaw, lips (thank You, Lord, for sparing my eyes) — I was able to offer the pain up for so many. Loved ones with different needs, people who were in worse pain, who had been suffering longer than I did. I prayed for every single person I could think of, for whatever need they had at the moment. Of course I also offered it up in reparation for my own sins, though I’m sure it wasn’t enough to cover those. And then there’s the conversion of those who are lost.
Truly there is so much to pray for, fast for, suffer for, that my teeny tiny offering seems useless. It is an awareness I don’t take for granted, a privilege to share in the Cross no matter how short the length of suffering. And I know that Mama Mary and our Lord know exactly what to do with what I freely offer, no matter how small.
The other thing that burns are good for is that they give you one more proof/reason to amend your life 🤪 I do.not.want.to.go.to.hell.
Today I have that crick in my neck/shoulder/back again. Perfect timing.
Here’s to the rest of Lent. May we not waste any of pain we go through.
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