Terry Begler, ENDOW Participant, Colorado

Lent is for Lion Tamers

“ROAR!”
Standing at the kitchen counter slicing carrots, I looked up just in time to see my six year old leap from the ottoman and pounce onto the floor. He scampered up again and, standing at full muster, proclaimed, “I am a mighty lion!” Again, he leapt from the ottoman with cookie crumb claws scratching the air. Landing on all fours, he then prowled to the counter and, as he stretched on hind legs, nose just above the cutting board, snitched one of my carrots and asked, “Mommy, if you could be any animal in the world, what would you be?” As if to help with suggestions, he volunteered, “Would you be a tiger, a wolf or a lion like me?” “Hmmm…” Twinkling eyes, like the dawn of an idea, he prompted, “Would you be a whale, a sea lion or an octopus?” (I grew up in Southern California so he thought he was on to my way of thinking.)
I answered, “Tempting choices, especially the octopus…The better to hug you, my dear.” He giggled. “Honey, I wouldn’t choose any of those.” “Then what, Mommy? What animal?” he persisted. I set down my paring knife and said, “let’s snuggle for a minute.” So, I took his hand and we curled into the big comfy chair, and after we settled in I said, “If I could be any animal in the whole world, I’d be a bee.” “A bee…,” he repeated as perplexity furrowed his brow. “Why would you want to be a bee? Why would anyone want to be a bee? They sting!” “I would want to be a bee, but not just any bee. I would be a big, fat, fuzzy bumble bee!” “You’d be fat and fuzzy?” he chortled with a toothless grin. “Yes, I would be a big, fat, fuzzy bumble bee.” “Did you know,” I continued, “that the finest scientists in the world believe the bumble bee should not fly? Physicists, biologists and engineers have studied the bumble bee. They’ve weighed it, measured its wings and counted one hundred and thirty beats per second. They considered aerodynamics and every law of physics. In the end, they concluded that the bumble bee cannot fly.”
By the grace of God, not only does the bubble bee fly, it makes a significant contribution to our world through pollination.”
My beautiful sisters of ENDOW, this Lenten season and always, I wish you the faith of a bumble bee.

Terry Begler, ENDOW Participant, Colorado

Recently, I was reminded that the term “Lent” literally refers to the lengthening of days, or spring. It’s a fact I’d buried so far in the recesses of my mind that I’d forgotten it. One reason is that Lent has come to mean so much more than a season. Still, if I had to compare Lent to a season, I would say it feels like winter, just as the trees are exposed without their leaves for the gardener to prune dead wood.

This Lent, I find myself on a quest for the obvious truth. Before you dismiss this reflection, I recognize the contradiction within that statement. A quest is a journey, a pursuit. When truth is obvious, what need is there to search? I have come to recognize that simple truths often become lost and sometimes buried amongst the messages of our world. To illustrate, you’d merely need to peak into my closet. Shoes significantly outnumber days of the week. Some are well-worn favorites, some for special occasions, a few for exercise, while others are painfully uncomfortable. There’s even a frivolous pair that I bought on a whim. I’m embarrassed to admit that a few are dusty from heel to toe and I’ve held on to some because they’re of good quality but out of fashion. Why hold on? What good is it? Moreover, this collection requires that I acknowledge messages I’ve internalized about personal gratification and whether the difference between my wants and needs has become too vague. Digging a little deeper, I must consider where I sit on the continuum from groomed to high-style and how my choices reflect my values. This Lent, I gathered those dusty shoes and several other pair and packed them in a box for charity. Next, I tackled the wardrobe and then the dresser drawers. As I cleaned the closets all through the house, I realized that this experience mirrors a spiritual process. In the quiet of packing, I found myself looking to see where resentment sat, gathering dust. Old injuries held painful places and I can’t help but wonder the point in holding a grudge. As for sharp words, there have been too many and they were usually colored the same. I never truly considered that the beauty of the Lord’s Day becomes diminished by trivial chores and errands. This Lent, I recognize that I am tremendously blessed. I have plenty to share with the less fortunate. More importantly, I receive the gift of reconciliation and am freed from the burden of sin. Just as the gardener trims the dead wood to prepare for new growth, I will eagerly embrace the coming of
spring.