high there

A year ago I felt as though I gave up my husband for Lent. I was at least a little hurt. I think already I could see where this was heading. I didn't want Tim to want what I perceived as unnecessary adornments to faith in the Orthodox ritualistic style.

This year, though, I'm seeing different. Doing different.

Learning, as I dip into Orthodox practices during the season they call Great Lent, that the idea here is to keep the process simple, my usual distractions at arm's length.

And so there is a fast from certain foods. Meat and dairy, oil and wine. Yummies we tend to use to adorn the basic grains, veggies, and fruits.

The Orthodox focus more, perhaps, on doing different than on giving up.

Which can be just as risky.

A priest with eyes that twinkle said to me the other day, "This can be a fun ride." I'm finding in my heart some agreement.

Another little ride I'm taking involves linking to a group called The High Calling. I found them thanks to Deb Colarossi. Her lovely blog Talk at the Table as often melts the heart as intrigues the mind. Even its URL, "forsaken for lent," carries artistry and a challenge to me to continue thinking. High calling. High church. Hm.

Then again, I feel a lot lately like a child crouched behind the lowliest shrub along a dusty path. Not really hiding. Sort of waiting. For the procession. For someone walking past, teaching a ragtag assortment of folks trying to grasp his message.

His eyes, I'm guessing, can look so sad. I'll bet they also gleam like universes.