Welcome to the first installation of the Cool Historic Catholics of America series! I hope you will learn a little bit about some people you have never have heard of before. 
Please make sure to read the intro post where I explain the selection criteria and process before you get upset about who is listed for your state. M'kay? 

Here we go!

Fr James Coyle, St. Herman of Alaska, Fr. Kino (sketch by Francis O'Brian 1962), Fr. Gregory Keller

Alabama - Fr. James Coyle

Born in 1873 in Ireland, Fr. Coyle is a good example of some of the pressures American Catholicism was facing in the latter part of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Ordained in Ireland at 23 years old, he sailed for America was another priest later that year to serve in Birmingham, Alabama. He was one of many Catholic priests brought to areas with growing Catholic populations in this period. In Birmingham's case, it was the large number of European immigrants coming to work the mills and mines.

Anti-Catholic, anti-immigrant, and racist beliefs were converging, and the Ku Klux Klan was ascending in Alabama. On August 11, 1921, Fr. Coyle was shot in the head while sitting on the swing of the parish rectory. The gunman was an enraged Protestant minister and Klan member. Just two hours earlier his daughter had been married to a dark-skinned Puerto Rican man, in a ceremony celebrated by Fr. Coyle.

Fr. Coyle died 40 minutes later on the operating table. His funeral was one of the largest ever held in the history of Birmingham.

Despite multiple eye witnesses to the murder, the shooter was found not guilty. It was a case defended by a team that included four clans men, paid for by the Klan, and heard by a Klansman judge.
The verdict had a chilling effect on the Catholic population.
But it marked the climax of anti-Catholicism in Alabama at the time. A local woman remembers, "After the trial there followed such revulsion of feeling among the right-minded who before had been bogged down in blindness and indifference that slowly and almost unnoticeably the Ku Klux Klan and their ilk began to lose favor among the people. It took a long time to accomplish this, and the feeling has broken out again periodically at odd times. We know that it will never be entirely wiped out, but today I should venture to say that the Catholics of Alabama enjoy the respect and good will of 85 per cent of the state. Let us not forget the martyred priest, who by his death was the instrument for bringing about in such large degree this happy state of affairs."

Alaska - St. Herman of Alaska

Ok, I know I said these would all be Catholics. But Alaska had slim pickin's and this guy is a really cool Orthodox who had a big impact on Alaska. We're a Church with two lungs, right?

So Herman of Alaska! He was born in Russia in the 1750s-ish. All the historians disagree/just don't know about his early life. Everyone agrees that, while well liked by his monk brethren, Herman felt called to a more solitary life. He became a hermit with his abbot's blessing. While offered ordination to the priesthood, and a nice mission assignment to China, Herman refused - preferring his simple life.

Russian colonization of Alaska was in full gear through the end of the 18th century, and the Shelikhov-Golikov Company appealed to Most Holy Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church to send priests to minister to the natives. Catherine-the-Great decided to send an entire mission. The final mission included 10 monks from Herman's abbey, including Herman. They arrived on September 24, 1874.

Conditions were far worse than than monks had been led to believe, and promised supplies were wanting. Despite those challenges, the mission was very successful among the Native population, and the monks became the defenders of the native Kodiac population against overwork and abuse.

Despite still not being ordained, Herman became head of the mission in 1807.While he had very good relations with everyone, he longed to be a hermit again. He retired from active duty and moved to Spruce Island. The Island is separated from Kodiak by a mile-wide strait.

But even in his hermit habitat, Herman attracted a following. At first it was mostly Native visitors on Sundays and holy days. Then a chapel and guest house were added next to his hermitage. Then an orphanage. Whole families moved out to the island to be closer to him. He spent the rest of his life on the island until his death on November 15, 1836.

Which just goes to show even a vocation of solitary prayer can have a vigorous active ministry.

Arizona - Fr. Eusebio Francisco Kino, S.J. - Servant of God

Born in Trent in 1645 and educated in Austria, Eusebio decided to enter the Jesuits after recuperating from a serious illness. He officially joined the Society on November 20, 1665. He completed his priestly training, taught Mathematics for a while in Ingolstat, and was ordained to the priesthood on June 12, 1677.

He wanted an assignment to China, but was instead sent to New Spain. He missed the first boat, and had to wait another year to catch the next one. But while stuck in Spain he made some important astronomical observations, and discovered a comet. (Way to stay productive!)

Now New Spain was really a GIANT area, and Fr. Kino was specifically assigned to lead an expedition to Baja California. It was a massive failure and they had to return to Mexico City.

His next assignment was better. He arrived in the Pimeria Alta (modern day southern Arizona, northern Sonora, Mexico) in 1687. He established the first mission in the river valley of the Sonora Mountains, at the requests of the natives. He would eventually found or start 21 missions.
He mapped much of the ancient trading routes through Arizona and California. His maps would remain the most accurate of the region for 150 years after his death, and they remain the first accurate maps of Pimería Alta, the Gulf of California, and Baja California.
His mission also taught the native people about European agriculture, seeds, and livestock. His mission herd of 20 cows grew to 70,000 - making him Arizona's first rancher.

He interacted with 16 different tribes, and strongly opposed slavery and the compulsory labor in the silver mines that was Spanish policy at the time. This made him controversial among his co-missionaries as most enacted the laws imposed by Spain on the colonized territories.

He remained in the missions until his death from fever in 1711 at the age of 65.

His cause for sainthood calls him Patron Saint of the Borderlands. "Kino’s apostolic routes traversed every highway and desert trail in the Sonoran Desert Borderlands that are now traveled in danger by today's migrant. Kino's greatest legacy is the inspiration that his life gives to people on both sides of the U.S - Mexico Border who work to ease the suffering of today's migrants. Kino is Patron Saint of The Borderlands - Borderlands of peace, solidarity and prosperity."

His cause finally began when his skeleton was identified in 1966 in Magdalena de Kino, Sonora, 50 miles south of Nogales, Mexico. They are now awaiting the two required miracles.

You might also see his name spelled "Eusebio Francesco Chini". The Kino came into use in Spanish speaking regions, and he is best known as Fr. Kino.

Arkansas - Fr. Gregory Harding Keller 

And now for a just fun one! Or should I say sweet one?

Fr. Keller was a priest-inventor who had big contribution to make to the world of candy. Specifically, candy canes.

Candy canes have a long lore and history, at least to the 17th century anyway. Candy canes were recorded being made in the United States by 1847, but they were all homemade.
In 1919 Bob McCormack founded McCormack’s Famous Candy Company - eventually to be called Bob's Candies. McCormack's made candy canes on a larger scale. But the process was very labor intensive, all hand done.

But Bob McCormack had an inventor in the family, his brother-in-law, Fr. Keller.
Fr. Keller invented one machine that twisted the candies into the distinctive spiral shape and cut them. Later he invented a second machine that added the characteristic hook. The combined machines become known as a Keller Machine.
The Keller Machine is what makes the candy cane industry possible.

But that's not all he invented. Fr. Keller held patents on to process peanut butter cookies, package peanuts, decorate candies, and a "stick assortment gathering machine" to create assorted packages of candies.

He held eight degrees. After completing his first doctorate in Rome, he found himself unable to return home due to World War I. So he stayed and got another doctorate. (As you do, I suppose.)

He died on September 1. 1979 after completing 60 years as a diocesan priest serving near his hometown of Little Rock, Arkansas.

I will keep updating the intro post with each new part of the series. Check back there if you miss one!

Cool Historic Catholics of America - series announcement!

I'm a very distract-able amateur historian. I love stories, and I especially love real life stories.

Spending a lot of time among historic newspapers, diaries, and other fragments of the past means that I hear a lot of whispers and echos of stories of everyday people who lived extraordinary lives.
Sometimes the stories were about one amazing event in their life. Sometimes it was the unlikeliness of their circumstances that led to their memory getting passed down.

It occurred to me there are probably stories of people in my own faith tradition that are still living in that whisper and echo place. Where local people know the story like an old friend, but someone on the other side of the country have never even heard of their name.

While Catholics are a huge population globally, they are not spread evenly across the United States. The US is a young country with spotty historical records. Yet I challenged myself to find someone from every state in the US, plus Washington DC, who was either in the pipeline for sainthood or was just a cool historic Catholic person.

I specifically wanted to find those stories that are often passed over. Most of them are not clergy or bishops. I sought after the stories of women, minorities, young people, and those who are not well known. Some of them are widely beloved, and some are controversial figures. They are required to be historic - so no living people are on this list. Their time will come!

While I love them too, you won't find saints like Elizabeth Ann Seton or Kateri Tekakwitha on this list. This is about the people you might not have heard of before.
Some states had a plethora of amazing stories to choose from. Some I had to really dig to find any names.

I tried to assign people to the state of their formation or to where they did the brunt of their work. Many people impacted multiple states, so sometimes it was an editorial call as to which state I would have them represent.

I'll be releasing the whole list 4-6 states at a time so I can do as much justice to their stories as possible. Feel free to comment on other Catholic people from their states that have their own amazing, yet largely unknown, story. Perhaps we'll do a bonus list!

So check back in the next few weeks as I release the list! In alphabetical order. Because I've been through multiple iterations of grouping, and trust me this is just the best way.

Updates with each portion of the list can be found here:

Alabama to Arkansas
California to Connecticut 
Delaware to Georgia

When Lent Tests You

You could say I failed Lent this year.
In the sense that I did not achieve what I set out to do in my initial vision.

But by that standard I "fail" in just about everything I attempt.

Lent is a popular practice - even among non-Catholics and non-Christians. There is something about systematically setting aside a time for simplicity, challenge, and trying to be more honestly who we are meant to be, that speaks to a deep longing many of us find within ourselves.

What I find most thrilling about Lent is how much better it gets because of the intentional surrender to God's Will.

I do a give up, a take on, and a pray on.

This year I decided to give up meat as a family, take on fostering intentional community, and praying on healing for victims of abuse.

I thought this would be a Lent of trying new recipes and re-visiting old favorites from when we ate tons of veggies in California. Calling up old friends, and making intentional time to foster new friendships. Spending some time in adoration and dedicating rosaries for abuse victim/survivors.

Then we had a house fire.

Suddenly meatless Lent became about being grateful for any meal that was provided for us.
Intentional community became learning to accept help when it was offered, and being ok with saying yes to letting people into our hard times.
I haven't had those times of extra silent prayer and adoration time. But I talked to The Atlantic about how parents are dealing with the crisis (or, in some cases, not dealing with the crisis), listened to the stories of survivors, and supported those creating future plans for parish and diocese events for furthering healing and understanding.

Nothing about this Lent is something I could have planned. It's not at all what I had planned.

And it's so much better.

Getting back into our house the weekend of Passiontide was both a relief and a burden. We're just so, overwhelmingly, grateful to be home, to still have a home, and to start to get things back to normal. But it's also so painfully obvious how much further we have to go.

The house hadn't been lived in for five weeks. It had been through temperature fluctuations ranging from -18 to 55 degrees. The dust and dirt of winter plus that time of non-habitation plus fire and smoke meant every, single, thing needs attention.

It would be so easy not to deal with it. To pretend that everything is fine and not even start. And suddenly I realized how often we do that with those non-physical aspects of Lent.

How often are there issues in our own lives that are within our grasp to address, but we don't.
Maybe we think it will be too much effort.
Too much demand.
Too much change.
Too overwhelming.

Many of those things we need to address are easy to hide, easy to ignore. Yeah, it's not great to ignore your mental health, overindulge, or entertain destructive thought processes. But it's easy to hide and pretend everything is fine under the hood. We all know that's a bad long term plan, but do we do it? For sure. I do it too.

But it's so much better to deal with it. To get in the dirt and grime, and start to chip away at the hold it has on you.

As we go into Holy Week this year, think about what in your Lent needs a little elbow grease? Where could you push just a little further in these last days of Passiontide? Where could you let grace shine in a little more?

Acting Boldly - Why We Need It For Healthy Parishes

For the past two weeks I've been doing a new, intense, thing in my Lent - Human Combat Chess!

I'm training for a show that involves playing chess, with human players, and when a space is to be taken there is a stage combat fight. It's wonderful, nerdy, active time - but it's totally out of my comfort zone. It's a lot of improv character work, weapons, and sports. I'm a fan of...sport food.

While I'm a trained dancer, and no stranger to the stage and odd rehearsal spaces, I have no real experience with doing THIS. I didn't know anyone among the 80+ people in the room. We work late, long, and hard, doing stuff that is foreign and potentially dangerous. It's very uncomfortable.

That's why it's so good for me.

The lesson that keeps coming up over and over for me this Lent is that good things don't come from complacency. Not only do we have to come out of our comfort zones to grow and discover - best results come from doing it boldly.

I heard a definition of acting boldly from one of our choreographers and it stuck with me.
Acting boldly does not always mean being loud and aggressive. It means making a choice for yourself, committing to it's follow through, and responding to how that changed the room.

So many lessons to unpack from this one concept! Let's look at what it would mean for our parish family if we were to cultivate acting boldly.

• No more playing it safe, indefinite, answers to commitments. Your yes means yes and your no means no.
• Struggles and mistakes are not only ok, they're expected. 
• Tension is ok. It indicates a turning point.
• It's not enough to come in with our own big ideas, we have to communicate and respond to others.

What I love about the concept of acting boldly is it allows people to work through issues quicker. It circumvents the tendency to "keep sweet" or "play nice" or allow unsaid, unacknowledged, issues to simmer just below the surface. To act boldly means taking risks, it's true, but it allows for a more honest representation of ourselves to others.

Sometimes I think we like talk about having a parish family, but we treat that "family" more like strangers. People we don't really know or trust. People who need to be held at an arms length lest they see us as we are. 

We have to walk our talk. Sometimes we need to learn to talk the walk.

That means opening our eyes to the new people in our midst.

It means having tough conversations.

It means getting a little uncomfortable.

It means letting go of assumptions about what others "might think".

It means living, fully, boldly. 

This does not mean you need to have a full confession of every thought you have ever had to everyone in your parish! But I would be willing to bet we all have areas that we KNOW we have been holding back from approaching. Fears that have been left unchallenged. Walls put up without even thinking to peek on the other side. I'm merely asking us to notice them.

Acting boldly advocates that we practice addressing them. 

If you make mistakes, or even just change your mind, acting boldly lets you move on. Because now you have to own your new choice.

Lessons from the theater!

Where do you see the concept of acting boldly being useful in your life? Have you heard of something like this before? Was it helpful?

A Young Parent Response to the Church Abuse Crisis

Yesterday, an article was published by The Atlantic about how parents are responding to the abuse crisis within the Catholic Church. I was interviewed for the article, but I was still surprised, and sometimes shocked, by what my fellow parents had to say.

Age is a Factor

I was the youngest person interviewed, at 28, and I want to talk about something that has come up repeatedly in the past months of grappling with the crisis. 2002 seems to be a dividing line in the young Catholic experience - in the same way the 2009 crash is a dividing line in our generational experience of employment.

If you were a child at the time of the 2002 scandal breaking, a first feeling seems to be more on the side of anger and a call for justice. We were the kids who were old enough to see and hear about what was going on, but too young to do much about it. We came of age into a world that was formed by that crisis.
Those who were teens or adults in 2002 seem to be reacting very differently. I've found many of the parents older than me to be apathetic or downright antagonistic toward discussing the Church crisis. Many have told me that "it doesn't concern them."

Obviously there are exceptions to both of these generalizations, but it's enough of a pattern that I think it should be noticed and understood if we are going to do a better job this time around. Maybe good enough to mean there won't need to be a next time.

Responses can not be just about my family and my kids. 

Back in September I wrote for YA Respond that our response, as parents, cannot be just about MY family and MY kids.

 "We cannot retreat and focus solely on ourselves and our families as a means of protecting our families. Our families have already been violated.

The survivors are not distant people - they ARE family. They are our brothers and sisters in Christ. If we truly mean to follow Jesus, we must follow him when he says "Love one another as I have loved you."

It's important to raise your own kids to be strong in their intellectual understanding of faith, healthy boundaries, etc. Absolutely! But it's not enough. We must all look, and work, beyond familial ties in this narrow sense if we are going to honestly be Church.

Stop buying into, and propagating, the lies of factionalism.

This is my fancy way of saying “quit thinking that people who look/think/do like you are unlikely to be abusers or abusees.”

Seriously, stop it.

One quote that shocked and appalled me from The Atlantic article was this one from Chris Meyerle's interview. "The way a priest says Mass, Mayerle believes, is one clue to his personality, and that plays a role in whether or not Mayerle will trust him."
"... One of the things we look for is when they do things the way they’re supposed to. In other words, they’re obedient—it means they’re probably obedient to their vows also. When they just start winging it, it means they view themselves as their own authority, which I don’t think is healthy."

I've heard this before from self-identified traditionalist Catholics, and other identity factions within the Catholic Church. Maybe there's something to it. Maybe that priest might be safer.

But what has been made clear through investigations, like the John Jay Report, is that there is no standard profile of a priest likely to abuse. Just like in the secular world, predators are smart and can blend in. They could be anyone, anywhere - even your Latin mass saying priest who loves all the smells and bells.

I don't say this to be alarmist, but to convey what I have learned from the stories that survivors have told me over the past few months. Many repeated that they think they were targeted, in part, because they believed abuse couldn't happen.
Because he was a good priest.
Because they were a smart person.
Because it only happened to altar boys in the 1960s.
Ultimately, believing that a category of person cannot be an abuser, in my opinion, makes you and yours an easier abuse target. You have made a nice wide blindspot for yourself. Those blindspots of unfounded beliefs are what predators hope to find. Falling for this lie, and propagating it, is dangerous and reckless.

Survivors might look like anyone

I've heard many Catholics speak recklessly about the abuse crisis, and I'm starting to wonder if it's because they have never met a survivor - that they know of. You might be surprised at who they are. They’re not all angry old ex-altar boys. They can be older women, young women, young men, seminarians, even priests themselves. Their abuse might have been decades ago, it might have been last week.

Abuse is appalling in all situations, and it’s never our place to judge if someone was abused enough or if they really were victimized. Maybe you believe that any adult who gets in an abusive situation was somehow reckless or asking for it (real comments from real people, everybody.) But frankly you don't know what you don't know.
If someone decides to trust you enough to open up to you with their story, the best response you can give is "I believe you." Let the police sort out validity, etc. Your job is to hear and love that person - not to pass judgement on their story.

Be aware when you talk about the abuse crisis, there might very well be someone in the room with a personal experience. Let’s try to act in that awareness.

What we should do

• Listen. If you have no first experience with abuse - congratulations. But you will probably have to work more actively to cultivate empathy for those with that experience. All of us, myself included, can work on becoming better listeners for those who need our humanity.
• Find a way to make space for victim/survivors. We talk about how the poor have a special claim on us as Christians. Survivors/victims of clergy abuse have an even more personal claim. Often they are fellow Catholics abused within the church. We have a personal obligation to them, as our brothers and sisters, to minister to them in love and facilitate healing - full stop. Not if we feel personally called. Not if it happens to come up. Not if it is convenient. If you are a faithful Catholic, these are your people and your family who have been hurt so deeply by those in our family. It doesn’t get more personal, urgent, and necessary than that.
• If your parish/pastor isn’t making active moves toward healing, openness, and discussion of the crisis, talk to him. You have a claim on your pastor to remind him to minister to his full flock - not just the 10% who run the ship. He might need someone to give him that boost of confidence to do this part of pastoring well.
• Talk about the good things that ARE happening. Right now there are lay people all over the country, and the world, working on creative responses to the crisis. Let's talk to each other! There is no need for us all the re-invent the wheel individually. Let people know what you are doing, what worked, what didn't, what you learned. We all need the encouragement of collective effort to make real, on going, change in our ability to love and be Church for each other.

I would love to hear your thoughts on The Atlantic article, and what I had to say here! What have you noticed? What is good that is happening in your diocese or parish? What still needs to happen? 

If you are one of the people who have shared your story with me in the past, Thank You! From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate your openness and willingness to teach me in sharing your story.

We Had a House Fire and Lent is Still Coming

If you follow me on social media, you might have already heard that we had a house fire this past Saturday. Everyone is fine. I was home and caught it within seconds of it starting. The fire department responded very quickly and were able to put it out and save our home.

The fire originated in the kitchen breaker box. The box is completely ruined, as is the surrounding wall. Smoke damage is pretty extensive. There is no power to the house right now, aside from a tiny bit to run the furnace to prevent the pipes from freezing in our sub-zero temps.

It was just the baby and I home when it happened - my husband and the big kids were at swim lessons. It's still unclear why the fire started then. We weren't using any big appliances at the time and nothing looked overloaded.

I heard a bang while I was in the living room. Looked into the kitchen and saw smoke and some flames coming from the breaker box. I had a brief moment when I was considering filling a pot with water and was looking for the fire extinguisher. But the banging/popping sound kept happening, and whenever it did the smoke and flames came back bigger and bigger.

I quickly decided I needed to call 911 and evacuate with the baby. While on the phone with the 911 dispatch, I started throwing all flammable objects across the room from the flames. I ran upstairs and grabbed the baby, my snow boots, and our coats, and ran outside to wait for the fire truck.

Felicity did see the flames on our way out the door, and it deeply scared her. She screamed and cried like nothing I've ever heard from a small child. I put her in her snowsuit when we got outside. Once she was in her snowsuit, she just laid her head on me and wouldn't move or talk or react for a while.

Our neighbor popped out to tell us we could wait in her house while the firemen were working. Felicity perked up at the prospect of getting to see the neighbor boys and their dog. Matt and the big kids arrived home not long afterward. The kids all stayed with the neighbor most of the afternoon as Matt and I were in and out talking to the firemen, the electric company, on the phone with insurance, and packing up what clothes and food we could to last for a few days.

As far as I can understand it now, the sound I was hearing was the electricity arcing within the box. Even after the fire was out, the box continued to arc - hence why we have the power shut off to the house until everything is safely repaired.

For the foreseeable future we will be staying at a local extended stay hotel. Our community has been amazing: bringing us meals, doing laundry, helping with the kids, offering prayers, and generally rocking the whole showing up thing.

It's hard to fully appreciate all the little conveniences, routines, and support that are there until they're needed. Every little kindness shines so much stronger when you don't have a way to repay the kindness right now.

We're really very lucky. This happened in the middle of a sunny afternoon and was caught as quickly as possible. For many others it starts in the middle of the night when everyone is asleep. Many other people have lost their entire homes, and they're completely starting over. We're just inconvenienced and repairing.

Before all of this happened, I had already made my Lent plan. Per my usual, I do a give up, a take on, and a pray on.

I had intended to make my pray on an intention for the healing of victims of abuse, and will keep that.

My give up was intended to be a whole family one - meat. When we lived in California, we were better about eating a wide variety of vegetables and being adventurous in our daily meals. We've become a bit lax about it in the Midwest. I would not normally attempt a whole family diet-related Lenten practice, but since we had previously eaten this way much of the time, don't have any food restrictions, allergies, or aversions, and generally have people willing to eat what's made - it felt like a safe bet.
But the fire changed a lot of those good plans. We've decided to still shoot for meatless meals as much as possible, but if the choice is going to come between being grateful for someone's generosity or adhering to a dietary practice - I believe it would be better to humble ourselves and accept what is given. Because let's be real, that's the harder choice for me.

Now get ready to laugh at my hubris.

My take on was totally going to be a feel good one - intentional community. I wanted to reconnect with old and new friends, and be better about reaching out to them more often. That "be careful what you ask for" adage is sometimes very true.

The fire has drastically changed what our Lent will look like, but it might be for the better. I don't know how this will all play out, or when we will get to go home again, but I am more aware than ever how good we have it. This has been a time of renewal, trial by fire (literally), and an opportunity for growth in ways I would likely have never done without such a need.

Maybe Don't Diet for Lent

Lent is coming in a matter of days (days!). Which  means "What are you giving up?" is the Catholic conversation starter of choice.

In the past few years I've seen a progression from giving up soda, desserts, or alcohol to giving up whole food groups or taking on highly restrictive diets. While not necessarily a bad practice, and comes with the territory if you are an Eastern rite Catholic, I wonder if this is becoming popular for non-spiritually fruitful reasons.

Often I've heard the argument that using fad restrictive diets is an easy way to challenge yourself and to get information about your body. While Whole 30, Keto, Paleo and whatever else is the hip way to eat in a year from now, may hit the criteria of challenging your food choices, I'm not sure they are useful as a Lenten practice.
Here are some questions to ask yourself before choosing a restrictive diet as your Lenten discipline.

If you're brutally honest, why you want to do this?

It's very easy to fall into the trap of thinking Lent will work like a magic spell. Everything you touch in the name of Lent will work out because it's a holy time! When we think like this, we forget that we are still ourselves. We still come into Lent with our personalities, baggage, struggles, and state of life.

Is your relationship to food something that has been difficult for you for a while?
Do you believe the foods you are cutting out via the diet are "bad" foods?
Did you pick this diet because it's popular in your friend group?

These are all questions that deserve some thought before embarking on this Lent!

Have you struggled with "failing" Lents before?

Do you tend to set your Lenten bar high, and go into deep disappointment when you slip up? Has that happened over and over?

Even though the fasting and abstinence traditions in the Eastern rites look incredibly demanding (and are demanding) that bar is more of a aspiration than it is a base level. Perhaps give yourself some grace this Lent and choose to set your bar high and work up to it. Or make small conscientious choices throughout the day instead of cutting food groups out wholesale.

Consider the weight your mortification will place on others

Perhaps you don't mind subsisting on veggies exclusively, cutting out all added sugars, or having limited protein sources - but is that true for your spouse? Is it reasonable to plan on making multiple dinners? Are your choices going to make it difficult to participate in community events? Thinking about the impact your choices have on others is a big part of being true Church.

Think beyond the food box

Maybe what you seek to rectify is not really about food. Perhaps you are struggling with self-discipline. Or simplicity. Or generosity.

Many of us grew up giving up a food something as a Lenten discipline, and still think of food restrictions as The Way to Lent. But I would like to challenge you to a little more honesty and awareness of your own struggles. Name the underlying struggle you are trying to address.

Last year I realized partway through Lent that I was struggling with procrastination. It didn't look like it, I'm very much a type A over-doer, but I was procrastinating never the less.
Phone calls would get carried over on my to do list for weeks.
Prayer time was something I would get to "later".
I would avoid rest by finding just one more chore to do.
Choosing to be aware of my underlying struggle made for a fruitful Lent that didn't leave me feeling like a failure for my slip ups!

Have you ever done a restrictive diet for Lent? What were your reasons? Did it make for a fruitful Lent? What did you learn?