“Welcome Lent” I say. Not two words usually heard together. Lent is that dreaded season of denying ourselves something we love or making ourselves do something we hate. Forty days never seemed so long. I don’t mind Lent. It forces me to shine the light on a vice or two that may have gone unchecked for a while.
This year the vice is Chocolate with a capital C. Some years it’s alcohol or coffee or maybe even desserts all together but this year it’s just good old, PMS loving, smooth and rich, can’t get enough of it – Chocolate. I’m putting it in writing for some additional accountability.
Lent always starts off all shiny and bright with the promise of a chance for self-improvement and betterment. I start off encouraged – I can do this! By the end of the first week I am Cagey and Cranky (both with a capital C’s). My mind conjures up ways to bend the rules. If I drink a mocha coffee does that really count as chocolate? Is carob considered chocolate? Does that mean I could have a carob brownie? That dark place justifies a mocha coffee with a carob brownie. As I start down that path I see a vision of Saint Peter at the Pearly Gates shaking his head. My argument falls like a house of cards.
Forty days drags on. I’m in the desert dry and hot and all I want is the oasis of Easter. And then, just when I think I’ll never make it, Easter arrives with its gorgeous promise of a new beginning. It’s time to celebrate the sacrifice made during Lent and enjoy the rewards. This year I’ll be eating a big fat Chocolate Easter egg for breakfast and enjoying every bite.