To be honest, I don't know that much about Lent. I get the general idea behind it and the basic historical/biblical significance, but the tribe I grew up in didn't practice or really even talk about Lent, so I don't know that I have a deep, foundational understanding or connection with it.
Much of what I've witnessed surrounding this season has been more about "what I will give up" and less about connecting with the Lord. Proclamations of anti-caffeine/meat/facebook/fill-in-the-blank sentiments are all fine and well, but I want to know: how does that draw you closer to the Lord? On Easter morning, how will that make you different from the person you were 40-some-odd days ago? And more often than not, those questions are harder to answer than the decision to not drink a Dr. Pepper every morning.
That said, I've had some good experiences with Lent as well: group commitments to read through the Sermon on the Mount each morning, to choose 40 people to pray for or write notes of encouragement to, to dedicate prayer on the Hours. These I love, these I connect with more fully and have made a positive impact on me. But I struggle to find a balance between what I will actually stick to in a season that is way too busy to begin with but that will also be more meaningful than checking a box to say I completed my Scripture reading for the day. And yet, I think this is the point, isn't it? That if we make this season about us, about what we can manage and complete, about what we are able to resist or add to our schedules, we've missed it altogether.
It's not a season about us, it's not a time to see how strong and sacrificial we can be and how that stacks up to what anyone else is choosing to do. It's not about selecting water over soda, vegetables over a pint of Ben & Jerry's, or silence over the latest sitcom. The giving up and adding to and tangible decisions to act are mere catalysts to draw us near to Him, to deepen our focus on Him. So that's where I want to point my heart for the next several weeks. I'm asking tough questions of myself: in what areas of my life do I need less of me and more of Him? And the disguise of busy, while true and legitimate, is often a means of packing life so full and overflowing that it's way too easy to dodge thinking about the parts of me that need, well, less of me. And so perhaps this is the very best time indeed to lean in close.
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I'm (rather impatiently) waiting for Bread & Wine to arrive in the mail this week and am excited to dive into it over the coming days. I've planned some other ways to engage this season of Lent – but only ones that will actually spur and encourage drawing near. Less of me, more of Him.
If you want to read more, these two articles really resonated with me and helped wrangle my thoughts a bit:
What God’s graciously given you is always enough to be abundant grace for someone else. (Ann Voskamp)
Lent is not a self-help program. It’s a crash course in getting real with God. (Susan Isaacs)
And this is another great post by our pastor who comes from a similar background but is a much more brilliant writer than I.
Our hope is not that God will keep us from death, but that Jesus, acquainted with the way, will walk with us in our dying. (Thad Norvell)
What I love most right now is learning how this season means different things to different people. It's as if God intentionally meets each of us where we're at....
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