The Only Thing On My Forehead Is Wrinkle Cream

Today is Ash Wednesday, which means the Lenten season has officially begun.  In many churches, pastors actually apply ashes to the foreheads of believers on Ash Wednesday to signify the inner repentance that is supposed to take place during Lent.  Ashes on my forehead would not encourage me to repent.  They would encourage me to shower.


I don’t know much about Ash Wednesday.  I don’t know much about Lent and the 40 days minus Sundays and the tradition of what am I going to give up this year and how will it increase my faith because I can’t have chocolate until Easter morning.  I don’t know much about anything. 


But I know this number that everyone talks about during Lent . . . this number 40?  It must mean something to God. 


It rained for 40 days and nights when Noah was in the boat escaping the flood (Genesis 7:12). 


Moses was on the mountain for 40 days and nights (Exodus 24:18). 


The Israelites spent 40 years in the wilderness (Exodus 16:35). 


Goliath strutted his stuff for 40 days before David killed him (1 Samuel 17:16). 


Jesus spent 40 days and nights fasting and being tempted by the devil (Matthew 4:1-2). 


I’m going to be 40 next year and how can that possibly be and I’ve heard women have to do ninety minutes of cardio to maintain their weight once they turn 40 oh dear Lord for the love of all things youthful can someone please tell me that isn’t true (no book, no chapter, no verse, but something that I think about way too much).


I completely subscribe to that whole “His ways are not my ways” verse in Isaiah.  In fact, it’s one of my very favorite verses in the entire Bible because when I don’t get something, I have a perfectly good explanation for why that is.  Of course my confusion has nothing to do with my lack of intelligence – His ways are not my ways people.  That’s just the truth.


So I will never understand why God does the things He does and I certainly don’t understand why the number 40 might be important to Him, and therefore, to me.  But I kinda think it is. 


There are LOTS of things I should give up for the 40 days of Lent.  There are LOTS of things I should try not to do or say or think or eat or drink until Easter morning arrives on April 20th.  I should give up worrying.  I should give up envying.  I should give up judging.  I should give up being impatient and prideful and greedy and selfish and unforgiving and I should totally give up my daily caffeinated coffee loaded with a ridiculous amount of vanilla cream. 


Would it strengthen my faith to give up something for Lent? 


Maybe.


I absolutely see the value in trying to stop doing something that is hard to stop doing.  Changing is difficult work at any age, and making a tough change in my life has the potential to help me fully grasp my desperate need for God.  I admire people who give up something for Lent to honor the One who gave everything.  40 days is a long time.  I would miss my coffee in 40 minutes.


I’m not going to give up anything for Lent this year.  Seriously, I couldn’t possibly pick just one and besides, my family needs me to drink my coffee – trust me on this.  Still, I want to respect and observe the Lenten season that begins today.  I want to prepare for Easter and reflect on what it . . . on what He means to me.  So rather than giving up something for Lent, I’m going to give thanks instead.  I’m going to spend time each day, every day, for 40 days, thanking God for the blessings of Easter.  And there are many, my friends.  There are SO. MANY. BLESSINGS.  I can hardly wait to start counting them. 


40 days. 


Endless blessings. 


Won’t you count them with me?