I hate lent. Shining a light on my brokenness and failings is not pleasant. I like pleasant. I like distraction. I like pretending everything is all right and justifying my behaviour and actions.

Lent leaves no room for that. It is a 6500K light at 5000 lumens shining on your soul. And it hurts and is super uncomfortable and squirm-worthy.

I am responsible of the truth that I know. The challenge is that the shadows of passions easily cloud my memory and change the shape of my interpretations, allowing for easier justification.

My friends humour me as I often push back against the trappings and traditions of the Orthodox church as I just want to love people (our passions aren’t a new thing, we just find new ways to feed and entertain them). It’s in that struggle that I realize the wisdom of the Church over the centuries has the answers. However, I just want the vending machine, instant answer instead of the “bake-from-scratch” solution. Baking from scratch means that I need to have the ingredients, the time, the patience, the equipment, the recipe, and the knowledge. Is 350 in my oven actually 350? Am I weighing the flour or just doing cups of flour? Are they quality ingredients or are they old and past their prime?

Patience is not my strong suit - the impulse is strong with this one.

And, for me to even think that I know how to love people. My love for other people is often self-serving and done from a place of pride. I want to feel good about doing good. And what if, in my actions that I deem loving towards people, I am actually hurting and hindering them? Discrention and wisdom do not pair with vanity and pride.

Laying all of this down and simplifying and taking time to repent (not just feeling sorry for, but acknowledging, and changing by turning towards God (and as a byproduct, turning away from)) takes time and effort and an attitude adjustment and lots of feels. I am good with good feels, I’m not so good at hard feels. There is a truth that cuts through the veneer of “I’m ok, it’s ok, I’m not really in need of repentance” and goes beneath to the root and core.

And I hate it. I like being ignorant in areas as it makes life seem easier. It’s less weighty and more flowy. I like flowy and light. That’s what is promised, isn’t it? My yoke is easy and my burden light. See what I did there? For those of you, specifically you, Padre, you can stop twitching now. I’m only sorta jesting.

I hate failing. I hate it so much. I’ve talked about this before. I’m an achiever. I like making a list and crossing things off. The people that love, guide, and shepherd me have heard me complain so much, SO MUCH, about the whole “Begin again” or “When you fall, just get up and continue”. Fuck it. I don’t want to fail. Failing means I’m less than. I didn’t achieve. I didn’t learn. I made a mistake. I’m going to be punished. I let somebody down. I messed up. I impacted other people. It quickly goes from “I failed” to “I’m a failure” which then just spirals hard.

And yes, I have failed. I am failing. I will fail in the future. And I will get up. And I will start again. Doesn’t mean I won’t be mumbling and muttering the whole time.

Oy vey.

Lord have mercy.

PS - As a palette cleanser, here is an amazing article on why failing is important :)

Posted on March 12, 2025