It's Ash Wednesday, but there are no ashes on my forehead. I woke up this morning with a sore throat and have felt worse as the day progressed, which might have been caused by the fever I realized I had. So while my husband wrangles kids and sings at Mass, I'm home with the wild child (a.k.a The Worst --though possibly cutest-- Baby in the World). An atypical beginning to the Lenten season -- although, I've actually never had a "typical" Lent, so I'm not sure what that would be like.
For one thing, ever since we started keeping Lent, I've been pregnant or nursing. So wholesale fasting hasn't worked out too well. In our first Lent, we arrived in England a few days before Ash Wednesday and returned home on Palm Sunday. Nothing quite so crazy since then, but never normal.
I miss not being at the Ash Wednesday service. I love the feeling of the liturgical start to the new season. However, I suppose sucking up those small sufferings and frustrations are what one does in Lent, so I begin now with this one (and the crying, angry baby, who didn't want to be left behind when everyone else walked out the door).
5 years ago