Lent

Even if I am innocent, I cannot lift my head, for I am full of shame and drowned in my affliction.

—Job 10:15

Aaron and I stopped watching TV and movies for the six weeks of Lent. We had watched ourselves turn from thoughtful, creative, curious people to people who lay on the couch for hours on end, watching just one more episode. We knew it would be good for us but also extremely painful.

Unfortunately for me, I left my job in the middle of Lent, and all the attending fear, sadness, anxiety, and brokenheartedness landed with a thud in the silence of our TV-free living room. To make matters worse, I was pregnant. I’m not a heavy drinker, but if I had not been pregnant, the pain of that season might have been eased by, say, ninety glasses of wine and an E! True Hollywood Story marathon. But neither of those were options, so I drank sparkling water and cried in the cavernous, echoing silence.

Why was this happening to me when I had nothing to protect myself with? I was helpless and exposed. I felt like I was in a winter storm with bare legs and bare arms, nothing to buffer or protect me. I felt, sometimes, like I had no skin, and everything struck bone and vein directly.