Lent

Once upon a time I gave up caffeine for Lent. I was a barista. It was hard. And while it restored balance in some ways, that was as far as I went in observing this period of mourning and reflection that has been built into the Church calendar. The only true excitement I found on Easter morning was in a steaming cup of good coffee.

This year, I'm going to be intentional. I want to see if there's value in preparing for Good Friday, if there's a reason to proceed with Jesus to Jerusalem, to repent and shift my focus outward. Will Easter be different? Will I be changed? Is that even the point?

My church had an Ash Wednesday service last night in which I participated. At one point during the service I looked at the woman in front of me as she wiped palm frond ash on my forehead and listened to her say, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return." I took the bowl from her and turned to the woman behind me, repeating the words and the gesture. There is value in remembering death. My death in particular. What is important to me? Do I live as though those things are vital and true? Does it turn my focus outward and my heart towards Jesus?

This Lenten season I'm giving up alcohol. And I'm adding a Sabbath. I need rest. I need a reason to rest. I need motivation to sit down with my Lenten prayer guide and ponder these things and prepare myself. I'm going to think, I'm going to be honest and sit and look for renewal. Can I do it? Or will I, as I do in so many other areas, fill myself up with good intentions and then fail in the follow-through?

There's still some forgiveness that needs to be extended by me. Ask me if I've extended it. Encourage me to write that letter.

Remind me that I am dust and to dust I will return.