Maureen Pratt

If you gave up something for Lent or if you added activity to punctuate deepening your spiritual life, by now, you might be tired. Tired of the new activity, tired of the "giving up," tired of having to do something every day...Just plain tired. But wait! Easter is near! In this blog, I urge you, encourage you, to hold on!

Setting a goal is often quite easy. There's a euphoria that accompanies setting our sights on meeting a challenge like those during Lent. Determination is often at a high point. We're "psyched" and ready, eager to get going. And we look at the calendar and see that 40 days is really not that long a time.

But as those days unfold, we start to waver. And we enter the "murky middle" of days, when the beginning excitement has faded and the goal seems ever-so-far off.

It's like this with many other activities leading to goals, too. In writing, for example, we authors can visualize the beginning, know what's going to happen at the end. But what are all those pesky dots to connect between them?

Sadly, many people hit the "murky middle" and get lost in the fog, buffeted by the ennuie and frustration, capsized by the challenges of completing the appointed task. Perhaps this is why many of the dreams we hold dear in our younger years get tossed to the side as we live the day-to-day and find that it's difficult to keep goals steady and tough to persevere.

One of the best ways to attack the "murky middle" is to understand that that is, simply, where we are. The middle. Not the crash and burn end, when the thought of not being able to continue turns to reality. Not the "I just can't do this anymore" sense that a marathoner gets before getting a second wind. No, these are the middle days. And they ARE leading to somewhere - the goal - if we slog through, continue on, hold fast.

Revisit the beginning of Lent. Recognize that there is much that is holy in the days that remain. Reaffirm your determination to continue, undaunted by the "murky middle," through to Easter.

Glean from this middling experience the courage and determination you can have in other "middles." And, maybe, rekindle one of those dreams that got tossed aside years ago. After all, middles can be beginnings, too. Read More 

Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to give up pain for Lent? To begin on Ash Wednesday with not a twinge, not a cramp, not a creaky, cranky feeling of hurt? Then Easter would be a true celebration of joy, wouldn't it? Yes, it would be awesome...but, alas, it's just not possible, especially for those of us with ongoing, serious pain and illness. Oh, there are moments when we feel "better." There might even be entire days when movement is easy, well, easier. But chronic is just that - ongoing and seemingly never-ending.

So, does the wishful thinking do us any good?

No, but yes!

Clinging to a wish that we know is unreasonable can sap our energy, strength and spirit. It's a bit like setting ourselves up for diappointment - and it perpetuates a terrible cycle of that same disappointment when we experience the "better" times and think "this is it! No more pain!"

But the wishful thinking can also be good for us, if we take it to another level. What if, instead of focusing on our own pain this Lent, we prayed for others who are suffering? What if we made an effort to learn about another ailment, not our own, and did something to advocate for someone who suffers and does not have nearly the energy we do? What if Lent was not about "giving up" the pain, but rather about "making something positive happen" in the life of another person?

One of the most challenging things about living with pain is the feeling of helplessness that can creep up upon us. What if, this Lent, we consciously decided to do something positive and, in so doing, turned that helplessness into something wonderful-ly effective?

Oh, what an Easter that will be! Read More