I'm the sort of guy who consistently has a bump, bruise, cut, or burn somewhere on me at all times. Yep, I'm a little clumsy. Mind you I have my moments of being graceful, fluid brilliance—most of them are in my head, well hidden from the rest of the world. That confession extends to my faith life as well. I wish I could say it's always an elegant dance, but it just isn't. For that reason there are some seasons that have become more important to me, Lent being one of them.
Beginning with Ash Wednesday, the Lenten season jars me, it arrests the pace of life. I'm more intentional about certain things: prayer, relationships and paying attention to who I really am seems to have more gravity. My spine is straightened and I see the world with greater clarity. That's how I find God—it ought to be simple right? God's right there, in the morning sun, in the bright eyes of my students, the compassionate hearts of my daughter and wife, in the ardent work of my colleagues and in the evening's sunset. With every turn, God's there, moving through the world and through me. I just need a device that slows my pace so I don't stumble over life—God's church has given me such a device and it's called Lent.
