I'm about to get into the topic of my religion here. Feel free to look away.

Today is Ash Wednesday. For Episcopalians, Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are fast days. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the 40 day season of Lent, which is one of repentance and sacrifice. Unlike the wikipedia description of Lent above, for The Episcopal Church the season of Lent starts on Ash Wednesday and includes all days (no Sundays excluded) up until the Saturday before Palm Sunday, at which point Holy Week starts which includes all days up until the Easter Vigil on the night before Easter Sunday, at which point the season of Easter starts.

So the point of Lent from a personal perspective is to give something up - some substance, behavior, attitude, what have you. It needs to be something that's important to you, although it doesn't necessarily have to be something detrimental - I once heard of someone who gave up reading for Lent. I'm not certain why they felt compelled to do this, but it must have been extremely hard to comply. Some people argue that you don't have to comply with your Lenten discipline on Sundays due to the above calendaring argument, but as my priests have indicated, that's a load of hooey.

This year, I'm giving up beer.

That's what I said.

By 'beer' I really mean all alcohol, but beer is definitely my preferred alcoholic substance. I've never been much into wines or strong alcohol (although a good margarita doesn't go amiss.) In particular, I associate beer with my social activities such as Geek Beer (a bunch of local sysadmins and programmers who get together on Fridays), shooting pool with my friends, or watching Duke basketball games at the local sports bar. So it's not just a substance, but a way of interacting with others that will be sacrificed.

I think this is the right thing to do at this time, although I anticipate it being a rather lonely Lent while I figure out how to socialize in places that don't involve alcohol. I'm promising myself that I'll look back into the local contradance scene, and I've signed up for some courses at the Durham Arts Council.

If you know me socially and would like to do lunch, or go to a museum or a movie during Lent, let me know. :) I can use all the help I can get.

I woke up this morning with a nasty head cold and a bad cough, so I called up my Uncle Joel in High Point and told him I wouldn't be making it to Thanksgiving dinner. Fooey. :( But at least there's a Hitchcock marathon on AMC, and some decent left-overs in the fridge.

Things to be thankful for:
My (mostly) good health - despite a couple of chronic problems, I have all my limbs and senses.
Employment.
The roof over my head.
My wonderful neighborhood: Old West Durham.
Friends who care about me.
Two wonderful kitties who only occasionally do things I really wish they wouldn't.
A family of folks who are really great - despite our differences, there's nothing like a familial bond, and I'm lucky to have the family that I do.
Despite the fact that I continually rebel and run away, I am thankful for God's grace and forgiveness.

I hope everyone enjoys their Thanksgiving, whatever they may be doing.

So, today was Ash Wednesday, a fasting day for the Episcopal Church. There are only two required fasting days a year - Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, which pretty much bracket Lent. I go by the hard rules - no food and no water until after 6pm.

Every time I fast I have an interesting experience. It invariably makes me appreciate how much I usually have, and what it is like to go without food and water for even a short period of time. I usually try to combine it with a day of silence, where basically I don't speak out loud at all. I have never successfully gone all day without breaking that one - usually it's talking to the cats by accident.

The water deprivation hits first, and I start to get dry mouth. Then a little light-headed-ness happens. Today I had a new stage - heightened sense of smell. I have some lilies in a vase in my kitchen, and I could smell them all the way down the hall in the living room. Finally a whole slew of random food cravings happen.

Today, my first craving was for a Slim Jim, of all things. Then it was Clausen's pickles. Then I wanted a strawberry milkshake. That turned into a full-blown Cook Out craving - double cheeseburger with mustard and pickles, spicy fries, and the strawberry shake. Then a friend mentioned Bullock's and suddenly there was a smorgasbord of pulled pork barbecue, Brunswick stew, hush puppies, turnip greens, and sweet black tea. Mmmmm. None of which is on my pesce-vegetarian, no-sugar, no-white-flour, no-caffeine diet.

I decided that once 6:00 hit that I *was* going to eat that barbecue, diet be damned. That might not be a very good Lenten attitude, but I was past caring. So at 5:40 I called Bullock's and made my order, then went to pick it up and was back home, ready with my fork poised in mid-air. Then I seriously pigged out for 20 minutes. It was the best food I can remember ever eating. It was pure joy.

Surprisingly, during the whole day, I didn't crave cigarettes once. Which is a good thing, because today is my quit date. So long, nicotine. So long, smoke-filled pool halls. Hello, lungs.

There are lots of ways in which I have been neglecting my spiritual life, and I'm feeling the repercussions of my digressions today. My family has always celebrated Christmas even though we were essentially atheist during my entire childhood. We celebrated Christmas more due to our Southern Baptist heritage than anything else, most likely, although I do think that Christmas is almost a secular holiday these days. But since my conversion, I've experienced what it's like to truly experience a spiritual, religious Christmas, and it's much more joyful when I'm spiritually aligned.

One of my main obstacles on my spiritual path right now is that after the first few years of "spiritual rush" (to coin a phrase) after conversion, the realities of day-to-day existence with God and Christianity become much more humdrum, and even more, challenging. In those times when one isn't "feeling it", one still needs to go through the motions. I think this is probably true with any commitment, though - marriage comes to mind. And the rewards of sticking with something are greater in the end. One hopes.

I am currently reading a remarkable book by Clyde Edgerton called "Walking Across Egypt." I swear that Clyde Edgerton must have spent about a week with my Granny before he wrote this book. The cooking, the language and regional North Carolina phrases, the piano, the religion - all of it could be a biography of my Granny's life. The main character, Mattie, is a widow with grown children, and is living on her own. She sings hymns and plays piano every night, and is busy all day long. One phrase from the book in particular leapt out at me as something Granny might think to herself:

Well, after all was said and done, after all was said and done, she had Jesus. She would always have Jesus. But. But it wadn't his way to come in and keep you company. You couldn't cook for him.

I hope some day to have the kind of faith that Granny had. Even through her darkest hours, she never lost her faith.

In my church, there are part of the Prayers of the People where you can say the names of people you want to pray for, people who have died or are ill or going through something difficult. There's also a part where you can say things that you are thankful for. The latter is a relatively recent addition - it's been going on for about a year now, if I remember rightly.

When people are praying for loved ones, there are a lot of voices and murmurs. When the thanksgivings come around, sometimes there's absolutely no one, and most often there's only one or two voices. This says something to me about how we look at our lives - although perhaps it's a Christian mindset or an American one, but it could be even broader than that.

I frequently forget to be thankful for my life and the good things I experience. So let me make a little list now to help me take stock of the things that are good in my life, although this really should be a regular practice. I'm going to list anything that occurs to me no matter how petty or trivial it may seem.

* I am grateful that I have a functioning television system, so I can keep up with shows that I enjoy and basketball.
* I am grateful for the occasional opportunities I have to see Duke play in Cameron Indoor Stadium.
* I am grateful to have graduated from such a remarkable institution, and for all the fond memories I have of my friends and educational experiences there.
* I am grateful that I have a good job, a great boss, a really good team of coworkers, and occasional appreciation from the people that I help.
* I am grateful to have found a really wonderful home which I can afford to occasionally buy furniture or other decorations for.
* I am thankful that I have two awesome cats who love me and keep me warm on the couch.
* I am thankful for my friends, who have helped me to be the happiest socially that I have been probably since college, and in some ways more so.
* I am grateful to those in my church (and occasional non-church friends) who help serve lunch with me at the Community Kitchen.
* I am grateful to have a loving church community that is full of caring, dedicated people who greet me with a smile.
* I am grateful for my health, which is generally good despite the occasional problem - and I'm even grateful for the occasional problem to remind me of how healthy I am in general.
* I am grateful to this city for being a vibrant, eclectic community that is willing to face difficulties and work on them, and to wrestle with change much like Jacob wrestled the Angel.
* I am grateful to God for showing me where the light is, and forgiving me when I run from it.
* I am thankful for my Mom, whom I love very much and who has been a very good parent to me.
* I am thankful for my father, grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts. They may not always have known how to deal with me, but they have always loved me in a way that only family truly can.
* I am thankful for Kermit the Frog. He's my hero.
* I am thankful for the challenges I face, for, as Richard Bach once said, "There's no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands."
* I am thankful for my past hurts, because what doesn't kill us really does make us stronger. Even if it doesn't seem like it at the time.

I have a friend who is on a medical leave of absence from her job due to severe back pain. It's been three months since she took leave, and I haven't seen her during that time. Partly this is because of my own topsy-turvy condition with Mom having surgery recently and with various job issues. But in part it's because we have somehow lost the ability to be true friends to those in need, I think as a society.

I noticed this when my mother was recovering from her surgery last month, and her friends really didn't get very involved with her during that time. She has always been pretty much the caretaker in her circle of friends, and they didn't really know how to respond to her being in need of care herself. She expressed to me her anger and sadness at her friends' behavior, and how she felt very let down. I asked if she had communicated her desire for visitors to her friends, and she said she'd stated it very clearly, but everyone was just too busy or self-involved to make time for her.

In fact, I am guilty of this in many circumstances. I had two friends last year who both had car accidents, one that resulted in multiple serious injuries. I didn't do a good job of caring for one of them, because, again in this case, he was really the caretaker of my social circle, and no one knew how to take over that role very well. I remember feeling overwhelmed at the time in other areas of my life, as well, and the extra stress of trying to take on the caretaker role was too much for me.

The other friend was actually not very much of a friend, and even someone that I didn't get along with. She had a tendency to yell at people in order to vent frustrations [not that I don't have my own faults...], and we clashed not long before the accident. This accident was very serious, though, and she is at this point working on walking without a walker. It's been several months since the accident.

She has been very vocal about wanting visitors and several of the people in my circle have tried to get me to visit her. I had one friend who has been very attentive with her. Yet someone I know who visited her said that it was a very difficult visit, with this woman even asking to have her legs shaved and such highly personal attention that I would be uncomfortable giving - and not only that, it's something that she can actually do for herself quite easily at this point. It sounded like this woman was being a little bit of a care vampire.

None of these thoughts on my part are very Christian, though - who cares what your relationship was with the person or what form of care they are asking for? They need the attention. They need the love. And it does help them heal.

I trained as a Stephen Minister for my church. Stephen Ministry is an excellent program that, while Christian-oriented, had a lot of general usefulness about how to care for others. What Stephen Ministers do is visit people who need care, whether it's someone who's going through a death in the family, an illness, a divorce, or just existential ennui. It teaches how to actively listen, how to create boundaries with people who are taking advantage of the care situation, how to love others effectively and, as near as possible, unconditionally. There is really a lot to learn to give care well.

I was going to be confirmed as a Stephen Minister in May of 2005. I decided not to be confirmed at the last minute. And I have almost entirely dropped out of my church at this point. Why did I do this? I think in part I realized that I wasn't ready to do a good job at it (although my Stephen Leader insisted that there's only one way to be good at it, which is to do it.) Also, I think just like many therapy patients end up wanting to become therapists, I really needed some care myself at that time before I could genuinely care for others.

I have been a good caregiver at various points in my life. I spent a lot of time with my late Granny before her death, and with my other Grandmother and my Mom when they've had surgery. I used to be so active in various outreach ministries at my church that I basically ran out of steam. I didn't know how to fill the well.

I guess that's a task I'm still working on - how to fill this well. I haven't really come up with any answers yet, although I know where I should be looking - exercise, prayer or meditation, regular habits to energize myself. I'm not sure what it will take for me to really get with this.

In the meantime, though, I've contacted my friend with the back problems, and I've volunteered to bring her dinner tomorrow night and visit with her. I guess starting somewhere is the best idea.