I got an astounding text from my 23 yo daughter the other day that read, “I think the universe just shifted. I actually like peas now!” To understand the gravity of this announcement, I must go back to her childhood. For most toddlers, peas are a favorite, not only because they apparently taste good, but because they are so easily picked up by that developing pincer grasp. Not Cherry. From the start, peas were a no-go. At our table, our kids were expected to learn to eat what was set before them, even were it only a bite or two. (OK, ok, to be honest, sometimes they were required to eat more than that if it was the main or only course. I hope they have since forgiven me.) But as she grew, Cherry was determined that the little green offenders would find no entrance; many is the time she sat at the dining table contemplating those tiny verdant orbs long after the rest of us had left. The most comical time we remember (and tease her about), was once when she was maybe kindergarten age. We had finished dinner, and to my surprise, Cherry’s plate was clean. “I ate my peas!” she told me. I praised her for it, of course, well pleased that the peas battle had been won with no bloodshed – for that round, at any rate. However, after doing dishes, I went and sat in the recliner in the living room, which has a direct view of the dining table. Glancing over, I noticed something odd under Cherry’s chair – and not just one. On closer examination, I found, you guessed it, a dozen peas! During the meal, she had been surreptitiously dropping those peas one by one under her chair when I wasn’t looking. In the manner of children, it never occurred to her that those peas would stay on the carpet as mute witnesses to her deception. She never pulled that trick again, though she found others, but once she left home for college, you could count on the fact that peas would never soil her plate, let alone cross her palate. When we found Sandra Boynton’s book/CD “Rhinoceros Tap” a few years ago, one song stood out: “O, Lonely Peas”, of which there is a comical performance you can find on YouTube.

One element of Lent is the practice of giving something up – fasting from something – for the Lenten period. I have known many for whom fasting in Lent is a form of self-abasement, a way to remind themselves of what awful, terrible, no-good, very bad people they are. Frankly, I don’t see that in Scripture. Paul identifies himself once as “chief of sinners”, but that is hardly his theme song, nor does he address the believers in the various churches as such. Numerous times we see variations on the Ephesians 5:8 passage, “Once you were darkness, but now you are light.” There’s a then, and there’s a now. Although there is a Lenten element of reflection on how our sin necessitated His sacrifice, I believe the purpose of the practice of Lent and its fasting should not be to focus on US and how far we fall short and what worthless maggots we are, but on HIM, His goodness, His grace to us, the depth of His love for us. In the light of His character and His grace to us, our response is to contemplate the ways in which our “work[ing] out our salvation” needs attention, areas where we are not as conformed to the likeness of His Son as we know we should be, asking His help to “will and to do”.

Rather than self-abasement, the self-denial of the Lenten fast is altogether different. In and of itself, self-denial usually feels like a negative action, but in Lent, that negative becomes a positive. Jesus said of anyone who would follow Him, “… let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me.” If we stop at the denying of self, so that our fasting is only saying “no” to whatever we’ve given up, we’ve missed the point. We fast from one thing in order that we may be freed to embrace something better. Fasting is an opportunity to focus one’s mind and heart on the things of God, beginning with the saying of “no”, but then moving on to a holy “Yes” – the self-reflection of what cross we have yet to take up, and the highest good of what it means to follow HIM.

For many years Cherry would quite willingly have given up peas for Lent, but if the object given up is no real sacrifice, there is no gain from giving it up, either. There are two things that I absolutely love, and that are both rather addictive for me – as in, once I have the first bite, I have trouble stopping: any form of bread or cracker, and sweets, especially chocolate. Because of the way last year went with caring for my mother and cousin being so intense and time-consuming, with all the stress attendant thereto, indulging in sweets and breads almost without limit became a daily practice. So, for my Lenten fast, I have chosen to give up all those things.  Yes, even chocolate. It’s not that those things are evil. For me, however, they have assumed too much power; they have become a comfort that only God should be. Saying “no” to these foods is a very real sacrifice, from my mouth’s point of view, but it will enable me to say “yes” to the self-control that is the fruit of the Spirit, allowing God to reveal Himself as the One Who is Enough – not only when it comes to my gluttony, but to other areas of my walk with Him as well.

Last year I gave up iced tea, which I usually drink several glasses of a day. It isn’t a “problem” food, but because of how ever-present that glass of tea would normally be, its absence provided a frequent reminder to pray and seek God’s face. Some people give up Facebook so that they can spend in prayer and contemplation the time they would otherwise spend perusing cute kitten videos, memorable memes, and status updates. Some fast for certain meals and give the money saved to a compassionate cause, asking God to teach them His love for others. The possibilities are endless, but if you choose to fast for Lent, remember that it is not enough to just say “no” – go on to saying “Yes!”

Peas be with you!