Most of us shake our heads when Halloween candy fills the store aisles in August and roll our eyes when Christmas decorations start appearing in mid-October. As Catholics, we feel the countercultural cost of trying to observe Advent when the world around us is fully engaged in the ritual countdown of remaining shopping days, and rightly bemoan the commercialism that always tries to push us into the next reason to buy something. We talk about the benefits of living liturgically and in the present moment, in keeping the Christmas tree up until Epiphany at the very least (if not the Baptism of the Lord or his Presentation on Feb. 2).

But all the wisdom and discipline of the Church's calendar seems to go by the wayside when it comes to Lent. It's almost as if we don't know what to do with Ordinary Time, so we leapfrog over it and focus on the Next Big Liturgical Thing: Lent. Now don't get me wrong, Lent is important and it takes some planning on our part to live it well. But I'm skeptical of all the Lenten offers and ads that flood my inbox (and mailbox) around the end of January every year.

The point of living liturgically is the discipline and beauty of living in the present moment. And this year, the present moment isn't Lent until March 2. I suppose that's one of the advantages of being in a place that really celebrates Mardi Gras as a season. The big blow out of king cake, glitter, parades, and balls keeps us where we are -- in that glorious in-between that moves us from Christmas toward Lent.

When I was a kid singing in choirs and playing in ensembles, orchestras, and bands, the hardest thing for me to do was to count. One-two-three, one-two-three doesn't sound like higher level math, and it isn't. But without it, music doesn't happen. Counting is how musicians stay together. When I didn't count, I'd either come in too early or miss my entrance. That's why every music teacher I ever encountered told me to use a metronome.

Back then, I was pretty convinced that metronomes were from the devil. It seemed that no matter how I set it, once I started playing it always got faster -- or slower. Of course, that isn't at all what really happened. It just felt that way because I was off time. The metronome was constant. I was the one who wasn't.

The Church is our spiritual metronome. She keeps time in a way that teaches us how to neither lag behind nor to jump ahead, but to fully immerse ourselves in the here and now. Jumping the gun and over-preparing for Lent seems particularly strange to me, because Lent itself is a season of preparation. The sacrifices we make by increasing our prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are objectively good. But there is a time and place for everything: for feasting as well as for fasting, for revelry (moral, of course) as well as sobriety, and for extravagance as well as simplicity. When we push ourselves ahead of where we actually are, we are missing the point and living on borrowed time. We just have to listen to the metronome and keep count.

So, I won't ask anybody what they're giving up for Lent. I won't sign up for special Lenten devotions, or order books and other resources. Lent will come, and when it does, I'll try to live it well. But in the meantime, I'll be a Catholic countercultural, and do my best to live each day, each time, each season as it is given.

- Jaymie Stuart Wolfe is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother of eight. Inspired by the spirituality of St. Francis de Sales, she is an author, speaker, and musician, and provides freelance editorial services to numerous publishers and authors as the principal of One More Basket. Find Jaymie on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @YouFeedThem.