My very Protestant tradition never emphasized giving up anything for Lent. I never dreamed that this year for Lent I would give up both my health and organized religion.
That's the way it worked out.
I got sick just after Ash Wednesday, and Holy Saturday was the first day I remember getting out of bed and feeling pretty OK. A few aches and pains, and a lingering cough, but in general I'm about 99% back to normal in health. The main lingering problems are that 40 days of near-total inactivity have taken their toll on my muscle tone and strength. I look like a little old man. Now I need to do a self-enforced physical therapy regimen.
Ash Wednesday was also my last day at St. Matthew's. Just after that, I decided I had finally had it and submitted my "I'm outta here" letter. Of course, it couldn't be that neat and pretty: Ever since then, for several hours a week, I've been involved in church business, unwinding my many involvements with the church. But in general I'm done. For the duration (largely because of health and depression) I simply had nothing to do with organized religion. All during this time, Daniel Orr, the priest of the church in Shelby, has been sending very welcome emails asking about my health and welfare. I don't think he was trying to recruit me; his interest in my well-being seemed very genuine. The result, though, was that the first time I pulled myself together to get to church was Easter, when I ended up in Shelby.
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