second Sunday in Lent

"Come to my help, O God; Lord, hurry to my rescue."

Psalm 70:1

It was innocent enough. Isn't it always? On the way home from church today Charlotte asked what we were having for dessert. Dessert? I am beginning to sense the tiniest oozing in the pit of my stomach about this time. I had made no plans for dessert. Didn't they realize I was fasting desserts/sweets this Lenten season? Surely they realized that the temptation of a dessert would hinder, and that it would be an easier road if I just left dessert off the day's menu?

 "There's an entire gallon of milk that could be made into ice cream in the extra refrigerator that will go bad soon if we don't use it", adds my level-headed, frugal husband.

I looked around at the hopeful faces dismayingly.

I asked Charlotte to pull out the Cuisinart ice cream freezer when we arrived home as I gathered the ingredients for the ice cream.

Lord, don't you know how weak I am?

 Don't you know how much I love soft vanilla ice cream, with strawberries?

The preparation and serving of a dessert at the end of our Sabbath meal is something everyone looks forward to at my house. After our Sunday dinner, dessert allows for more time to sit around the table as we celebrate Sundays. Usually, I will take time on Saturdays to plan and fix an extra special dessert that everyone will enjoy.

As I stirred the milk and cream I began to see clearly the joy in this act of abstaining from something my flesh truly looked forward too and enjoyed every Sunday. Yet this was another practical opportunity to turn outside myself and look at the cross, embracing the costly price He had paid for me. It wasn't legalism at all. This was a perfect opportunity to worship, though the comparison of what it had cost Him was mind boggling.

I am dependent on His grace. I am dependent on His help in all circumstances, no matter how small it might seem at the moment. Amid my moments of human frailty He is there to guide me.

Worship never tasted so sweet.