“We don’t nourish our soul. Our soul nourishes us.” –Jack Canfield
So on the third night back home, my mom, sister and I took a night out, just for us, just to spend some time together.
And because we only get this chance every few years, we let nothing stop us.
We huddled up in a booth at an Italian restaurant and ordered appetizers, Italian sodas and tea.
We cackled and laughed so loud, our waitress didn’t know what to do with us but refill the drinks and bring extra bread.
And we would smile at her and say, “Sorry, it’s just been awhile.”
We went to Old Navy and shopped, each of us, for things we wouldn’t normally buy for ourselves, but might spend months wanting or needing.
We joked about buying matching ear cuffs, and settled for similar sweatpants instead.
That night was one of those rare gems, and a few days later I went to the coffee shop where Travis worked years ago and bought the quiche and the latte, and rested in the space of a trip that I just needed for myself.
I rested in that beautiful memory of a date night with my mom and sister, and understood that it will carry me a long way, especially when I decide to order an iced tea or find that shirt in my closet it wear those gray sweatpants.
So where is Lent in all of this?
What I am realizing is that all these holy holidays and seasons we celebrate in the liturgical year– they are for a certain time and place, but they journey with us constantly, teaching us to hold life in the balance of “not yet, but almost,” teaching us to prosper and dream and live into our own souls, to listen to our own heart voices.
This isn’t about deciding that I will shop incessantly from now on– it’s about listening for what I need, hoping you will listen to what you need,
Asking what lessons of Lent are coming to your soul–
Listen and respond, friends, and let Lent do its work.