Y’all, I have utterly failed at Lent this year.
This is a new experience for me. I don’t know if it’s just that I usually choose easier challenges or what, but about a week into Lent, all of my sacrifices had fallen down around me, despite my best efforts and intentions.
Even as I failed miserably, something grand has happened in my spirit.
Instead of focusing on the exterior—i.e., what I was doing or not doing for Lent—I had to focus on the interior: Did I really believe I was good enough, just as I was, or did I use those sacrifices as a crutch to prove my worth? Did I really believe the Lord when he told me I was good enough, without doing all these extreme things for Lent? (Spoiler alert: NO!)
What I found was that all of my plans had really been about me: how efficient I was, how capable I was, how holy I was, and not about knowing and loving Jesus better at all. In the end, my plans were centered around where I wanted to be at Easter, not where Jesus wanted me to be. I didn’t even pray about my Lenten things, I just decided. They weren’t even about making me stronger; they were about hiding my weakness.
At first, I cringed on the inside every time someone asked what I was giving up for Lent and I had to respond, “Nothing.” I covered it up with a hasty explanation, but mostly ended up sounding crazier than I needed to. I cringed because I saw my lack of sacrifice as a reflection of myself—what a lazy Christian I must be, to not give anything up for Lent.
There are great segments of our Church (of which, unfortunately, I am part) that sometimes see Lent as a self-help season, a season to get trim, get fit, and somehow make our self-centeredness a prayer. There are also great segments of our Church who think Lent is only about depriving themselves of chocolate, or makeup, or meat, or whatever, and they fail to see the depths and richness this season offers us (which has been me pretty much every year up til now).
But this year, I gave up nothing for Lent. Surprisingly, it has been one of the harder Lents I’ve had, not because of any great suffering or lack I’ve experienced, but because my self-reliance has finally been laid bare. In the midst of some of the loneliest days (not bad, y’all, just lonely), my prayer has been more authentic and real than ever before, and my heart has cried to the Lord how much I truly need him. (This was triggered by an unfortunate kitchen flood, but that’s a story for another time.) I’ve surrendered my self-reliance, self-sufficiency, and independence. I’ve finally come to a place where my heart whispers, “Lord, I need you and I need others,” and means it.
