You’re Not Too Late For Lent
Hi friends,
Happy Lent! It’s been a while since I posted. Sometimes my best-laid plans are interrupted by this four-letter word-LIFE. It can reroute me, distract me, and even detain me. But somehow, it unfolds just as it should, whether I have the bird’s eye view to understand or appreciate it.
Since I last posted about my trip to Spain to walk a portion of El Camino de Compostela, I have been working on my first book, a Lenten devotional, a 40-day journey with Jesus. It is currently in draft form and being read by a small group so I can get some feedback. More than that, I asked them to tear the book apart so it could become what it should be.
In the meantime, if Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent snuck up on you, you’re in good company. Jump in now. You’re not too late for Lent! It’s never too late to start! I will be sharing some chapters from my book over the Lenten season. I hope it blesses you. I would welcome any comments.
Day One: The Invitation
(Ash Wednesday)
“I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams.” –Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Standing at the edge, I gaze across the vast expanse of what is before me. It is immense and daunting. As far as the eye can see, there is sand, infinite particles of sand and rock, making up the Lenten desert.
My thoughts wander as I stare intensely at the sand near my feet. There is no obligation to step into the desert. I can choose not to take this journey. Yet something or someone is drawing me in. Behind is the lush nature of the world I will soon leave. The temptation to return to the world reaches for me and tries to pull me back, whispering, do you really want to give up what you have for this?
Wrestling with the temptation to avoid the desert journey and what it will bring stirs tension within. Thoughts of worldly comforts and self-satisfaction bring delight. I like my world. It is a good world. It is hard to leave. Perhaps I like it too much.
My wandering thoughts fade as I remember the sand beneath my feet and the invitation by Jesus to walk with Him for 40 days. But, again, I am distracted and leave the present moment to entertain questions of what this journey will bring. Will it be hard or uncomfortable? What if nothing happens? Or what if it stirs up things in my heart I would rather avoid?
The invitation awaits, a time to walk with Jesus intentionally for 40 days and draw close to Him. I have taken Lenten journeys before, and the same trepidations arise each year before the start of Lent, the same questions, the doubts, the what if’s that surround my fears of failed expectations and commitments.
Why Lent?
The meaning of Lent is familiar; its purpose is to prepare spiritually for Easter. Regardless, I still question this season and what I might be asked to give up. Interesting that I focus on what I may have to give up instead of what there is to gain. If Jesus walked for 40 days in the desert, I can too.
Jesus invites me to take a step. I hesitate. The love-hate relationship with Lent is laced with dread and anticipation. Dread, as nothing about the desert is appealing, and anticipation for what may come from time with Jesus. I do like adventure, but life in the desert seems unexciting, perhaps demanding, and different from what I am accustomed to. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply, and pray, ‘Jesus, lead me into this desert journey to be with you.’
I place my hand in His. It is no different than standing at the edge of a cold mountain lake, testing the water. I don’t know if I want to expose myself to this. How might it turn out? What if it goes poorly? What if nothing happens? I give myself a pep talk; ‘the only way to get in is to take the plunge.’
The Spirit nudges me; the same Spirit that led Jesus into the desert. I leave the familiar and comfortable world for that of the unknown, assured that the Holy Spirit will guide me as it did Jesus. Jesus and I take a step into the desert. We stand together in the sand. It is warm and coarse beneath my feet. I breathe a sigh. It feels okay.
Scripture:
“They will neither hunger nor thirst, nor will the desert heat or the sun beat down on them. He who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water.” (Isaiah 49:10)
Reflection:
- As you take that first step into the desert, what are you feeling or seeing?
- What hopes or hesitations do you have in accepting Jesus’ invitation ?
- Close your eyes and imagine yourself with Jesus. What does He want you to know?
