I look at my calendar with a bit of trepidation, for Lent is about to begin. Ever since Christmas I have looked forward to this season. Spring and growth and the greening of the South as the season of Resurrection begins have brought me through the bitter cold of Winter and I've planned our observance for weeks.
But lately I've felt dry. Tired. Worn thin. We've been too busy and this non-type A girl doesn't function well at high velocity. Down time is hard to find and the first thing to go when I am too busy is my alone time with Jesus.
Stupid, stupid me.
But Lent is about to begin, and I feel the hope already. Fasting is becoming a friend, and this year I will be putting sugar on the shelf...giving up the sweet to remember the bitterness of His suffering. Even a few of my kids are joining in their own way which makes me happy and hopeful that they will feel the Lord drawing near to them as they fast.
Yes, Lord, draw near.
I need Him so desperately. I too easily allow myself to run dry and regret it every single time. I sigh and complain and look at all the responsibility weighing on my heart, letting it overwhelm me and rob me of sleep (and joy) and He clicks His tongue, because I'm supposed to let Him carry it. HIS yoke is easy. Mine is not. He has made the tradeoff, yet I refuse to pry my stubborn fingers from the wheel and then whine when I veer off course. He has the solution bought and paid for, but I continually cheapen the gift.
Stupid, stupid me.
So I look forward to Lent this year in a different way than I have before. I look forward to the intentional withdrawal and the lighting of candles as I seek His presence, to quiet moments with Jesus and black coffee. To Spring and Palm Sunday and Good Friday and, oh the glory of Easter!
The tomb stands empty, waiting to be filled so that it can be gloriously empty again!
May our hearts be captured anew.