It seems to be that whenever something NEEDS to get done – studying, writing a presentation, writing that darned grant proposal – I read something or hear something that brings me to this page, where I write.  Often my thoughts are a jumbled mess, and many deleted lines later, they get published to this blog so that you can read them, and so that I can re-read them.  This post is honest, and difficult for me to write because it is personal.

Today is Fat Tuesday, a day where most of us take the chance to eat junk food and doughnuts and “forget” to eat our vegetables.  It’s the day before we give stuff up – Facebook, eating junk food, eating fast food, chocolate, coffee, soda – all the things we should eat or do only in moderation anyway.  But it’s more than that, or at least it’s supposed to be.  Fat Tuesday is the day before Ash Wednesday, when we remember that “We are dust, and to dust we shall return” and we are invited to share in a fast to prepare our hearts for Easter.  Easter is about redemption, recognizing our sin, repenting of our sin, and remembering our frailty.  Easter is a celebration, yes, but the forty days prior to it is a chance to come face to face with the man in the mirror – to strip away the layers of makeup that hide who we really are and how deeply flawed and sinful we are.  To face the reality of our brokenness, to open our eyes to the things we need to change in ourselves.  To shine the spotlight on our deepest fears, our most desperate hopes, our honest mistakes, our guilt, our sin, and our shame.

Something I struggle with a lot is this:  I care about what other people think of me, and I yearn for their approval.  I struggle to see myself as Christ sees me, as He made me.  I put too much stock in what people say.  To that end, let me draw your attention to this:  This year, Ash Wednesday falls right before my least favorite “holiday” of the year.  Valentine’s day.  Confession: I HATE Valentine’s day.  Perhaps it’s because, in the 22 years of my life, I have been single for all but one of them, when most of my friends are not.  Perhaps it’s because it’s an open invitation to eat chocolate and not feel guilty (until tomorrow at least).  Perhaps it’s because I hate the advertisements on television for jewelry and chocolate and those disgusting conversation hearts.  Perhaps it’s because it’s not a real holiday (at least in my eyes).  Whatever the reason, I still hate it.  I am genuinely happy for those people who are in great relationships, who are engaged, married, dating, or courting the person they love.  It’s nice to see that those relationships do exist.  For me, though, this day serves as a reminder of what people have said about and to me in the past that has hurt me.  The reasons why I’m “not good enough” or “not worth anything” or “not pretty enough” or plain just “not enough”.  The lines that play on repeat in my head – “You’re not worth anything because you’re going to die young” “Why would anyone ever want you?” “Who could love you with all your problems and the baggage you carry?” – they still hurt, and this day reminds me of my inadequacies in the eyes of people.

For anyone who is even remotely in the same boat as me, I hope you can take hope in this.  Fat Tuesday comes before Ash Wednesday.  Ash Wednesday (this year) comes before Loving Thursday (as I have dubbed it, don’t judge).  This Thursday, I want to remember how Christ loved me.  I want to celebrate that He died for me because He LOVED ME.  I want to remember that I am worth something to Him.  I want to focus on the fact that He has written my name is His book, and invited me into His presence.  I want to focus on that this Thursday, and then I will focus on my reflection in the mirror.  I was made in the image of God, and that’s what I want people to see when they look at me: the love of Christ.  (Disclaimer: I may still come home from work and watch a chick flick and eat chocolate by myself.  Don’t judge.)

So, this Lenten season: I want to look in the mirror and strip away the makeup, revealing my sins, my faults, my fears.  And then I will walk to Calvary, where my sins nailed Him to the tree.  Where I yelled, “Crucify Him!” with the rest of the crowd.  Where my mocking voice called out.  My sin nailed Him to the cross.  And yet still He died to save me.  Hallelujah, thank God for dying for me.  Listen to the song – How deep the Father’s Love for Us.  Close your eyes and just listen to the grace that is yours through Jesus Christ, though we do not deserve it.  But this I know with all my heart, His wounds have paid my ransom.