Last Thursday I attended mass. After some questions and wanderings, I found the side chapel which I hadn’t known existed at this church. I wasn’t late, but I was barely on time. The way the room was set up I didn’t know how the communion would go, but I put that aside.
This was my first visit since I made the commitment to attend Thursday mass throughout Lent. You can see the photos above that show you the spareness of the Lenten decor, and it was lovely to be in the simplicity with no distractions from the Word.
When mass was over, something unexpected happened. The monstrance was set up for adoration. I hadn’t known that there was an adoration period, and since I had no other plans, I thought I would stay, and what I found was peace. Contentment. In this moment, this unexpected comfort and full of comfortable sitting.
Some who stayed were sitting, some were reading, all praying.
I was sitting with prayer and some were also; some of us were just sitting with Jesus.
This was the second time in a year that I found myself accidentally at adoration, and it seems to me that in these two times, this is where I was meant to be. I could feel the presence of the holy spirit. It didn’t occur to me to leave, and so I stayed, and when I felt the call end, I went about my day.
I also wondered: could I read my current book? Reading a book, sitting side by side with Him.
Mark A. Villano, CSP, Daily Reflections for Lent: Not by Bread Alone 2026, p. 7
This was the meditation for Ash Wednesday. As soon as I read it, it spoke to me. I am a planner. Whether it’s my trek to work (today I had four bags plus my phone and keys) or vacation or retreat (enough clothes for a week even if it’s only a weekend) or Lent (you saw my list last week).
The most important thoughts to me are the last two questions:
What do I want to carry with me during the days ahead?
What prayer exercises or spiritual practices will accompany me?
As with all my excursions, I have a tote bag. Or three. I load myself up with what I *might* need even when, with experience, I know that I won’t need all of it, and I probably won’t need half of it. So, as I begin my Lenten journey, what do I want to carry with me for the next forty or so days?
What prayers and practices will I take with me? And which ones will I leave behind? What is working for this Lent that may not have worked last year? And on the opposite side of the coin, what worked last year that just doesn’t feel right this year?
The rest of this week is thinking time for me.
Meditating.
Contemplating.
Discerning.
I’ll come back next week and write about what I’ve discovered. In the meantime, if you’re observing Lent, what are you doing to make it meaningful for yourself?
In this regard, I would like to invite you to a very practical and frequently unappreciated form of abstinence: that of refraining from words that offend and hurt our neighbor. Let us begin by disarming our language, avoiding harsh words and rash judgement, refraining from slander and speaking ill of those who are not present and cannot defend themselves. Instead, let us strive to measure our words and cultivate kindness and respect in our families, among our friends, at work, on social media, in political debates, in the media and in Christian communities. In this way, words of hatred will give way to words of hope and peace.
Lent has snuck up on us again this year. It is quite early with Easter happening the first weekend in April. I just finished listening to Fr. James Martin’s Ash Wednesday podcast, and it reminded me of many of the things that I want to do to make my Lent intentional. As with the last few years, I am not giving anything specific up. I am going to continue to be intentional in what I am taking in whether that is food, candy, drink, or media. I want to put more thought into the things I’m doing, saying, and bringing into my life.
This year marks the 800th anniversary of the death of St. Francis, and Pope Leo has declared this to be a Jubilee Year in his honor from January 10, 2026 through January 10, 2027. There are all kinds of ways to earn plenary indulgences and what not, but that’s for someone else.
Another exciting event this year is that it is the 350th anniversary of St. Kateri Tekakwitha’s baptism. This happened right here in New York state, and the shrine in Fonda will be celebrating. One way is by having mass on Easter Sunday, which is her baptismal anniversary to the day.
I’m seeing a lot of concerns and posts on Threads (which is my main source of social media) about suicidal ideation, reaching out, is reaching out a codependency or a cry for help, is it merely speaking your truth “into the void”. I am not suicidal, any more. I am hyperaware of my mental health, and when I feel it diminishing, I reach into my coping tote bag (or toolbox) and see what will work *this time*. (For my story, you can search my tags for /my42, /mental-health) My evergreen go-to is writing, lists, and me time away from work and home. I must admit that I’ve adopted “me time” from my daughter. She is fierce about her space and her alone time, in her private room in the evening, and on her days off. She has taught me so much about how important self-love and self-care is.
As Lent approaches (T-minus two days, one and a half really), again, I have not decided on an item to give up, I have not decided on a spiritual practice to adopt for the next forty days, I have not moved into a Lenten mindset. Home is harried. Work this week is harried. My writing classes and groups that I’ve committed to are harried. And I love all three of them, so my object isn’t to make the times in them go away, or worse or negative for me or the people around me. It looks like it’s time for a few lists.
But lists aren’t the only mental health tool or adaption that I’ll need this week.
I’ll also need time.
We all do.
Even when I was a stay-at-home mom and my kids were in school for most of the day, I still needed to make time, bide my time, reserve my time, reclaim time. How is time simultaneously fleeting and standing still? Of course, it matters what we are doing with those times – vacations speed by, the work day slides along slowly. Paychecks come late,and bills come early.
For the next forty days, we of the Catholic faith will try to be better, with the help of G-d, but truly for ourselves. What can we do to make ourselves better? What can we do to make our lives better? What can we do to make the world better?
Whether you follow the forty days of Lent until the Resurrection of Easter or it’s just almost spring for you, think about how you can rest in yourself, how you can reset, and recover your mental health, to be healthy in ways that work for you.
I’ll return to this subject on Wednesday when Ash Wednesday begins the Lenten season, and I will hopefully have something to add that I’ve come up with for myself.
Until then, do something quiet and peaceful for yourself, and be.
St. Patrick’s Day has long been one of my favorite holidays. Long before I met and married my husband with Irish roots, and well before I set foot on the Emerald Isle. I have always been fascinated by the Celts, their people, their land, their culture, especially in relation to ancient and medieval culture. I have also been a questioner. Why? Why do we do this? Why don’t we do that? As a young child being told that I couldn’t write during Rosh Hashanah, I was devastated. But writing isn’t work; it’s writing, I whined to no avail. Becoming Catholic has not broken me of that – is it really a – failing.
And so, I question – why?
Why can’t we eat meat on Friday? Is it because Peter was a fisherman? Will there be a dispensation for today? It is a saint’s feast day after all. I waited for Pope Francis, and then was told that it’s up to the local bishops. I still couldn’t find it, so I texted my godmother and she okayed the corned beef which made my husband happy (as if he wasn’t going to indulge on his holiday).
But I still wondered: Why?
In googling and asking my questions of the internet, I discovered the controversy that is North Dakota. Apparently, they have three dioceses, and two have them have allowed meat today, and one has not. The idea that North Dakota has three dioceses makes little sense to me, but I found no less than twenty-five separate links about St. Patrick’s Day in North Dakota. Amazing.
Archbishop Nelson Perez of Philadelphia popped up as did Cardinal Dolan in New York City’s Diocese. I didn’t see Boston, but I came to the logical conclusion that there would be dispensation for Boston Catholics. What holy hell would be raised if even one of those cities banned meat on St. Patrick’s Day? I hope we never find out.
During Pope Nicholas I in 866 CE, Friday abstinence became a universal rule. Fasting also on Fridays was common by the twelfth century. It was expected for everyone, including those as young as twelve with very few exceptions.
It also used to be that you couldn’t eat any animal products on Fridays, not just during Lent, but ALL YEAR. I learned that Fat Tuesday began as a way to use up all of the animal products that you couldn’t eat – butter, cheese, eggs, lard, and of course, meat.
Pope Paul VI changed things in 1966 in his Paenitemini. His object wasn’t to end abstinence and fasting but for Catholics to choose to abstain and fast as part of their own penance practices; let their conscience be their guide.
With Sunday being a weekly Easter, shouldn’t every Friday be a Good Friday? This was asked by the US Bishops in 1966 and I tilt my head wondering the same thing.
Lent is an opportunity to lend mutual support on our spiritual and faith journey. We are in it together and have a shared experience through Christ’s death and resurrection.
So why the exception for St. Patrick’s Day?
Filled Soda. Randalstown, NI. (c)2023
I mean, look at this filled soda from Northern Ireland! Resistance is futile. This was a breakfast sandwich shared between my husband and myself (and after twenty-three years of marriage he still had to take it under consideration).
I can imagine that they might have thought they’d lose all the Irish American Catholics if they said no corned beef on Friday of St. Pat’s Day, although this quandary occurs once or twice a decade, so it isn’t exactly a pressing issue.
I would also note that the traditional St. Patrick’s Day celebration food in Ireland is different from the traditional food eaten in the US. In Ireland, sausage is usually eaten, and not your teeny-tiny frozen breakfast sausage, but a lovely, large, grilled bit of deliciousness. Bangers and mash. In the US, we serve corned beef and cabbage with mashed potatoes and carrots. Yesterday, I had cabbage with leeks, and it really boosted the flavor.
What are you to do?
It becomes a crisis of conscience.
Well, as I mentioned, dispensations are local, so check with your diocese.
Is it a pass? Not really. You’re expected to abstain from meat on a different day during the week.
Usually, you’re expected to give up meat on a day before the next Friday after St. Patrick’s Day and (or) perform acts of charity and good deeds to atone or call it even with the meat eating.
We’ll be having corned beef, cabbage, mashed potatoes (possibly champ), carrots, and Irish Soda bread with Kerrygold butter.
Ash Wednesday was just over a week ago and I still haven’t settled into my Lenten routine. I read the two devotionals I have at some point during the day, every day, but I haven’t found the perfect time and space for prayerful reading. I want it; I just can’t seem to settle into it. By the time I do, Lent will be over and I’ll have a case of regrets and guilty feelings.
I didn’t give up anything either. I couldn’t come up with anything that felt right. Nothing felt … well, actually everything I considered felt performative and had no deep meaning. What I’ve been doing so far this last week, is thinking more deeply about what I’m choosing to do with my time and choosing to eat and choosing to spend money on. I’m trying to make that part of my contemplations, but I feel as though I’m falling short.
My March is full of study and action and days of reflection and retreat, but even that is missing an emotional component. At least, that’s how it feels to me. Sleep walking through the steps but not genuinely getting anywhere. I even just added another retreat evening to my schedule, but it’s facilitated by two of my favorite religious women and that alone is worth the time spent.
Writing classes are going well – the first class of each are both great groups. I’m very excited for these six weeks. (Surreptitiously waves at any of them reading this right now.)
I have calendars and checklists and fancy colored markers but none of it is giving me any of the impressions they’re supposed to do.
Although Wednesday’s soup delivery is a good time to sit in quiet and peace, smell the soup, taste the bread, and pray on what got that soup to my door. Maybe I can draw a soup prayer. Draw a soup prayer. That’s something different, I think.
Goal for the week to include on my Apostolic Action – look back at my Heart and Soul Quest Letter to myself from November and the green sheet/handout that Sister gave us and use that to try to get into the Lenten frame of mind and after that I can check back next week. It’ll be a date: Tuesday. That comes after grouping on Monday and after planning this week’s lessons and right before I arrange April’s calendar for this site.
Lent did not seem to rush by or to trickle; it went along just right as Goldilocks would say. For me, I think part of it was keeping the labyrinth journal throughout Lent. It forced me (in a good way) to look at my day, both before it began and then to examine how it went later on and keep track of my activities. I mostly stuck to spiritual activities, but some secular ones seeped in, especially when I spent quality time with my family or if I completed writing assignments. Those things got me up in such a positive way, I couldn’t help but meditate on them and incorporate them into my spiritual journey for Lent. I enjoyed switching the colors between journaling, and I enjoyed recognizing close moments with G-d in the micro-narration as well as in the moment.
With Lent finished, and other responsibilities beginning, I thought I would try my hand at a spiritual journal. I started it on the 19th and didn’t pick it up again until yesterday. So far not an auspicious start, but I don’t intend it to be a daily journal; I’m attempting to keep it pressure free. It occured to me to begin it when I started keeping a log for my Cursillo grouping and Ultreya tripod and close moments. I thought I should keep those and have access to re-reading them and be able to always be advancing in my spiritual life.
Here are the final pictures of my Lenten Labyrinth Journal. It is definitely something that I found rewarding and something I would consider doing again. As you can see below the cut, I needed a second labyrinth to cover everything during Holy Week, concluding with Easter.
“To many people holidays are not voyages of discovery, but a ritual of reassurance.”
Phillip Andrew Adams
Palms from Palm Sunday. (c)2022
This week marks my massaversary. Two years before I received my sacraments, I began attending church services. It was during Holy Week that this started and it marked a profound change in my life. Attending mass, sitting alone in a pew reading Scripture didn’t make all my problems go away; they didn’t suddenly create a magical turnaround in my mental health issues, my personal issues, my crisis, but it did create light in the darkness, both metaphorically and literally in a bright light vision. I met new people who influenced me in all the positive ways you want friends to influence you. I discovered a group of people who were glad to know me, and provided material help despite not knowing me from Adam. I saw what a calling was through their actions, and I saw what it means to walk with Christ.
I was welcomed with great joy, and I continue to be.
My massaversary is more than simply a date on a calendar or a memory of long ago. It is present, it is here, it is now, and I am welcomed with great joy whenever I enter the church and cross my self with the holy water from the font in the gathering space.
Even in an empty building, I am welcomed because Christ is always present.
I will try to put words on my feelings in small ways as the week continues on, and as the Lenten Journey ends and Easter begins.
Griffins and Ginger Snaps 