There is a version of myself that walks into church on Ash Wednesday and a version of myself that walks into church on Good Friday. Aside from having the same face, these women bear very little resemblance to one another.
 
Ash Wednesday Me is fired up. She’s ready to go. She’s got a stomach full of pączki, a forehead full of ashes, an oven full of fasting bread and a whole list of Lenten resolutions. She’s got a plan for the next 40 days and she’s ready to be transformed.
 
Good Friday Me is tired. She’s lumbering into church dragging six weeks of failure and unfulfilled expectations behind her. Nothing went the way it was supposed to (again). She didn’t accomplish what she wanted (again) and she doesn’t want to dwell on it (again).
 
If Satan offered both versions of myself the same deal he offered Christ — submit to me, and you will have the whole world — I have to wonder: which one of these creatures, formed and fallen, would be strong enough to defy him? Would either?
 
I can’t say that the chipper, optimistic woman on Ash Wednesday has more strength than the tired woman on Good Friday. To each of these women Satan offers an easy way out. But to each, too, Christ offers an abundance of grace and the gift of justification.
 
This Lent, I know that I will be tested. I know that I will fail in many ways. I know that my intentions and my best efforts will not be enough.
 
But I bring them to the altar anyway, and I leave them there as an offering. And I know that Easter morning will dawn, and the tomb will be empty.
 
“The gift is not like the transgression.” — Romans 5:15