This February 2023, we are still dealing with COVID and RSV—and facing the fears and uncertainties of a world in turmoil since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and Israel’s war with Hamas—I find myself entering the season of Lent already on my knees praying for so much that is entirely out of my control.
Lent as a church season
Lent begins with Ash Wednesday and ends with Easter. It consists of 40 weekdays, observed by Christians as a penitential and devotional preparation for Holy Week and Easter Sunday’s remembrance of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is also a liturgical commemoration of the 40 days Jesus spent in the desert before starting his public ministry.
Lent as a personal pilgrimage
Growing up in the Episcopal Church, it was traditional to give up something we enjoyed during Lent (e.g., chocolate or dessert or meat on Fridays). In recent years, though, I prefer to use the time to take on a new discipline: a book study, additional daily prayer time, a retreat. I write more often in my prayer journal so I can be intentional about my connection and conversation with God. I try hard to adopt the mindset of using whatever I take on—or give up—as a reminder to focus on God, not just as a self-improvement project. Even small changes to my daily routine can trigger a reminder of God and give me an opportunity, however brief, to commune with Him.
Lent is a time to slow down and step away from the hustle and bustle of daily life. According to Merriam-Webster, the word derives from Old English “lente” meaning springtime, but I wonder if it doesn’t also have the same roots as the French word “lent” which means “slow.” Many times in his life, Christ himself modeled for us the importance of seeking the slower pace he found in solitude. This intentional time for communion with God was essential to his ministry. It is surely essential for us too.
Lent has long moved me. I find my sensitivity to Spirit quickens at this time, primarily, I’m sure because I make the space for it. I write very little poetry, but in 2003, Lent inspired me to write Lent Calls, and I share it with you here. I wish I could say I have progressed spiritually from the tug of worldly demands I was feeling when I wrote it, but alas I still fall far short of where I’d like to be in that regard.
Below the poem is the beautifully illustrated rendition done by my incredibly talented friend Lynne Crumpacker. If there is sufficient interest, I will get it printed on quality paper, ready for framing. Please let me know using the contact form on this site’s Get In Touch Page if you want to be put on a no-obligation list to be notified when printing and pricing are decided.
Jan Carroza
What a beautiful sentiment your poem is. And the artwork is stunning. In such crazy times, a little soul-searching is soothing. Thank you for sharing your wisdom, clarity and heart.
Elizabeth Cottrell
Ahhh, thank you for such lovely feedback, Jan. Any bits of wisdom, clarity, and heart that I have is a gracious gift from God and I hope I can always pass it on.
Katherine Robertson-Pilling
Beautifully said, Elizabeth. The call to let go of something we cling to is frightening. The sacred space that is left can be very uncomfortable. But there is so much freedom on the other side. Thank you for the beautiful reminder that less really is more, especially when we choose it consciously.
Elizabeth Cottrell
Katherine, what a lovely response and I so appreciate your taking the time to read and comment. It is especially meaningful knowing that your life’s work is helping others get clarity on what is most meaningful to them, both personally and professionally. Thank you!
Nancy Ruegg
“One step is all I can manage, Lord.” Me too, Elizabeth. Surrender, abandonment, and reconciliation seem to require multiple, impossibly-difficult steps. But I do want to put myself on God’s potter’s wheel to be shaped by him–even if the process does take many steps. Thank you for the lovely poem, Elisabeth, and its challenge to surrender to the Potter’s hands.
Elizabeth Cottrell
Thank you so much for reading and commenting, Nancy. Yes, I find with many of my Christian friends that this is something we struggle with, even when we’ve recognized it in ourselves. Catherine Marshall spoke and wrote about her prayer of relinquishment. It’s a prayer I find myself having to pray over and over.
Thank you, Lord, for being patient with me!
Cindy
That’s lovely!
Elizabeth Cottrell
Thank you so much, Cindy. I wrote it several years ago and every year I find it pulls something else up from the depths to consider and ponder. For commenting on my blog during my book giveaway, your name is being entered (book is Gretchen Rubin’s “Outer Order, Inner Calm”).
Sally Wessely
Beautiful. I find In this season of the year and of my life I am being called in new ways that seem far from what I have always felt called to do. We can’t put God on a shelf or in a box. He moves in ways we never expected. He breathes new life into us. He asks hard things of us as he works his way in us. Your last three lines are so relatable and so powerful.
Elizabeth Cottrell
Yes, it is so remarkable that these periods of being called to something new still look entirely different from one time to another, don’t they? The value of looking back on them from the perspective of my 69 years is being able to see how God never left my side while He was nudging me out of my comfort zone. I find the potter’s wheel comparison so helpful — that pot must be pretty darned uncomfortable to be pushed and prodded and stretched and smashed and fired before it becomes a vessel of beauty and utility.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting! Another entry into my book drawing!
Trudy
This fits in perfectly with how I’ve decided my Lent will be. Which is to give more along with giving up. I’m skipping the usual banning of chocolate & substituting instead the worse habit of judgement & criticism. I’ll be putting $$ in the “Mite Box” each time I lapse. My mantra will be “Give Freely, Think Kindly, Act Gently, & Be at peace with the world & myself”.
Elizabeth Cottrell
Yes, Trudy, it’s those intangibles — those knee-jerk emotions — that can be our downfall, can’t they? You’re insightful and brave to recognize an area of weakness and turn it over to God. Those things we don’t (or won’t) acknowledge are even more insidious. I’ve had very little luck actually being cured from some of these weaknesses (one of mine is wanting the control the outcome of things in my life and thinking, often, that I CAN). I used to be enormously frustrated by this, but it’s finally dawning on me that it is in my weakest moments when I’ve felt closest to God. I have to believe that is fa more than coincidental!
Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Trudy!
Barbara Forte Abate
This is such a beautiful message and gorgeous poem, Elizabeth. As a lifelong Catholic, I have observed lent since childhood. I knew the rules, and mostly just worried about holding to my personal sacrifices for the duration. As an adult, the years of study and reflection have brought me around the corner from aspirations of success in giving-up chocolate and jellybeans, into the awesome beauty of this 40 days. Truly, I LOVE lent, a season that calms me down, allows me to refocus, and deepens my spiritual commitment. I love Jesus on an ordinary day and go mad for Him during Lent!
It’s difficult for me to give up the treats I enjoy, and so I do just that. Giving up “things” reminds me what I sometimes forget, which is to say I am far stronger and determined when I do things for Christ, than when it’s simply for self. Along with giving up stuff, I make a commitment toward things that involve prayer and service, with the hope I’ll hold to them even after Lent is over. In part, I intend to focus on “giving-up” worry, biting back my usual immediate reactions to petty annoyances, impatience, and to be a kinder person at times when my inclination is to be anything but.
Elizabeth Cottrell
Oh, Barbara, this is such a beautiful outpouring of your faith, and I am moved deeply that you are sharing it here with us. Your mindset for giving things up is perfect — with an end to helping you focus on our Lord and his life, death, and resurrection. I love what you said, “I love Jesus on an ordinary day and go mad for Him during Lent!” That must make our heavenly father grin from ear to ear.
May you have a blessed and holy Lent!
Kim Williams
Well said. A while back, I took some advice and I no longer ‘give up’ things for Lent, rather, I take on something new..a new, healthier, or servant minded activity. Do something new and it might just become a habit. Besides, even though it is a bit of a semantics, it is more pleasant to think of adding something to my life rather than deigning it. 🙂
Elizabeth Cottrell
So true, Kim, and I have done the same thing. If I “give up” anything, it’s to try and give up some of the baggage I carry — the spiritual clutter, if you will. That helps me focus on God and on the journey that Christ took as he moved towards the Crucifixion. I wrote about this in a guest blog last year called “De-cluttering isn’t just for closets and inboxes.”
Elizabeth Cottrell
Brad, thank you so much for this very thoughtful comment. I’m very interested to learn that Lent isn’t an emphasized season in all Christian churches. I love that you put your finger on the important commonalities. And thank you for sharing that powerful piece of scripture!
Brad
Thank you, Elizabeth, for such a nice synopsis of Lent and for the exquisite poem!
The observance of Lent has not been at the forefront in the denominational circles through which I’ve grown over the years.
Your poem, though, has certainly captured what I believe to be the essence of what God is after in each of us: Surrender, Abandon, Reconciliation
I love that passage from 2 Corinthians 5:
Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation.
Blessings!