Two years ago, my word for the year was rhythm. When the season of Lent came around, it resonated deeply with me then, since this season is about building better rhythms of intentionality and intimacy with the Lord more than anything else. I wrote this post about it all, and instead of repeating it all here, I'd love for you to read it and then come on back.
Every word I wrote then is relevant now.
So, Lent. Here again, just when my weary heart needs it most. And falling on Valentine's Day, as an extra reminder of how love is the fuel behind it all, both on our part as we endeavor to focus on Him more in this season, and on Christ's, as He goes to the cross as the greatest act of sacrificial love for all time.
This year, I'm not giving up a food group or creating a long list of rules, but instead embracing ideas and practices I've loved all along. I'm focusing on key things I know draw me closer to Christ and the cross. I'm returning to rhythms I know are hard for me to press into, but worth it when I do.
Prayer. Psalms. Poetry.
Sabbath and stillness.
I started an effort to copy out all the Psalms by hand sometime last year, but it dropped off. I want to pick up the practice again this Lent. And poetry? I want to keep writing at least one poem a week, sharing here when they are polished enough for the public eye, keeping them private otherwise. Prayer... I want to dive into intentional, meaningful, focused prayer in this season to create a habit for my spiritual life in the long run. I neglect prayer far too often, and I want to make it a focal point of my study and searching this Lent.
Sabbath -- the weekly day of rest that is far too easy to ignore in the busyness of our lives, but the most important day for my soul and health. This recent podcast episode all about Sabbath from Annie F. Downs with one of my favorite authors/pastors, John Mark Comer (who wrote my FAVORITE book about Sabbath) was such a timely reminder for me about the incredible importance and significance of this weekly rhythm.
And stillness. Creating space for daily meditation. Keeping my phone away from my bedside, so it isn't the last thing I do before bed or the first thing I grab in the mornings. A whole Sabbath Sunday each week without social media, without screens of any kind. Intentional mornings in the Word (as I've almost done faithfully every day so far this year, thanks to THIS!). Returning to my yoga practice, and my evening walks, and carving out alone time for reflection (to do the praying, the Psalms writing, the poetry).
Over it all, grace.
In it all, intentionality.
Throughout it all, love.
To quiet the noise, still the strivings, and focus my energies, all in efforts to know Him better and see Him more clearly in every day. As we journey toward the cross, painfully and purposefully and prayerfully, may this season bring new hope and new healing. May awareness arise. May awakening come. May we find resurrection life springing up from this old dusty ground, again and again and again.