Ash kicking

I'm making peace with my annual, inappropriate treatment of the Lent season. As many of you know, yesterday was Ash Wednesday, the official kick off of the 40-day (minus Sundays) season of Lent. Those Christian churches who practice lent get to spend the next six-and-a-half weeks wandering around the proverbial desert like Jesus did, only our desert is intended to be one of sacrifice (and there is obviously no warmth and NO SAND in Central Ohio this time of year). It truly is an "ash" kicking, so to speak.

This is where the traditional practice of Lent takes a wrong turn in my sometimes twisted world. For the last 5+ years, I have used Lent as a weight-loss tool. Oh yes, it's true. It's really the only time of year that I actually follow a healthy diet. Something about being held accountable by the biggest boss there is gets under my skin. Sure, you could argue that if I were a truly devout Christian, I would try to live my very best life—including a healthy lifestyle—365 for all the days of my life, because like Santa, God is always watching.

And that's where my most common sin takes center stage. I am the queen of gluttony. I can only manage to live up to that healthy lifestyle for 12.5% of each year (with the exception of two years—one where I was losing 40 pounds after college, and one where I had recently been dumped).

In the last few years, this trend of using Lent for good—but bad—purposes has started to bother me. I developed a bit of a guilt complex about last year, and I could feel the shame or remorse rising up in my this year as I noticed the Mardi Gras decorations piling up in stores (hey, did you know Fat Tuesday has religious history?!).

Last night at the Ash Wednesday service at my church, I was sitting next to Kristen Jarzecki and my other fellow Peace & Praise singers, and I was thinking, "Here we go again... another season of dieting for Jesus." Oh that sounds dorky and wrong in my mind and in print.

But! It was about that same time that one of our pastors—Yeah, Doug!—was giving one of the prayers. In his prayer, he said something about making this year's Lent a chance to leave behind our weariness and the things that weigh us down. He told us that this year, we should try to live our very best life.

What?! Is this the papal (okay, not really Catholic) pardon I've been looking for?! I mulled this over for a bit, and now I think yes... yes it is! It is NOT such a bad thing that for nearly 13 percent of the year, I try to better myself. Sure, I need to aim higher than that, but it's a start. And maybe my annual Lenten diet is God's way of working THROUGH me. Perhaps the big guy (or girl, or animal or any other godly being) knows that I am hopeless when it comes to dieting. Each year, he cheers me on from heaven, saying, "Okay Tif, this is your year! I'm going to give you a 6.5-week head start, and then you take it from there."

So, with that in mind and ashes freshly washed from my forehead, I'm going to launch into Lent, and then hope to carry my best-life practices through the rest of the year.