As Lent draws to a close

This Lent has been bookended with snowstorms.

On Ash Wednesday, a storm dumped about a foot of snow on us; we had to cancel our plans to go to Confession and receive ashes.

Today, another storm is covering our part of the world with a foot or more of snow. Once again, our good Lenten plans are canceled. Today we're missing our tradition of family confession, a fish fry, and the beautiful Tenebrae service at the Basilica.

But, as my friend Love2Learn Mom noted, Lent isn't about making plans and sticking to them. As she says, "The theme of Lent this year seems to be "*YOU* are not the one in control."

So very true.

Not all of our plans had to be abandoned, of course. We did our usual "give ups", which are always fruitful. You learn how attached you've become to certain perfectly legitimate treats, and how beneficial it is to mortify the flesh by denying it those good things. We tried to increase our prayerfulness, and did some wonderful Lenten projects (which I always meant to blog about... one of these days....) We also tried harder to prune away those thorny sins of selfishness and lack of charity toward each other.

But most of our "offering up" this Lent was handed to us by events. The snowstorms, for sure, but much more.

There was sickness. This was one of the worst winters we've ever had for viruses that swept through the whole family, again and again. It's hard for me to remember a stretch of more than a week or so where somebody wasn't sick. And it continues: I came down with a miserable cold-achy-coughing virus yesterday.

There was the sadness and stress associated with having to admit Dad to the hospital again for testing, and for another stint in rehab. There's no way of sugar coating that, really: it's a nursing home, and nursing homes -- even the really good ones, which this is -- are hard places to be.

My Dad is doing a little better, thank God, but it's been a cross of loneliness and suffering for him. Between my mom and my three siblings in town, we're there many hours every day, but still, he keenly feels the separation from home when he's alone.

It's been hard for all of us, too, (though obviously not nearly as difficult) with time away from our homes and families, time spent traveling to the rehab center, all the worries about how Dad is doing, and just an aching sorrow at the cruelties and indignities, big and small, inflicted on us by aging.

So, Lent came to us according to God's will, in a much more meaningful way than if we'd been able to complete all our carefully made Lenten plans, according to our own wills. And that certainly helped teach us the life lesson that "we are not the ones in control".