In 10th grade, the year 2000, I gave up candy for Lent, as I did most years in that time in my faith journey. I love sugar. Like, really, really love it. So, a season where I am to give up something that I had a hard time saying no to? Candy & sugar, obviously.

Someone had recently given me a candy necklace. (Remember those? Cute jewelry that tastes great? I was all about it.) Well I completely forgot it was Ash Wednesday and I put a blue sugar ring in my mouth while it was still attached to that slick, sharp string. One of my Catholic locker neighbors reminded me, It’s Ash Wednesday! I let the candy roll out of my mouth, which let the necklace fall back into place on my neck and — BONUS — because the blue candy piece had been in my mouth, it left a cute (embarrassing) blue line from the center of my bottom lip down to where the necklace sat.

Since then — a mere 21 Lent seasons ago — I have given up candy or sugar just about every time I participated in the season. Sometimes I made it. The year of my husband’s first deployment, I did not. Those seasonal Hershey milk chocolate eggs? Come on.

Well this year, I need something different. It’s been a special kind of time we’re living through here, and I have done more soul-searching and God-nearing practices in the last 12-18 months than I maybe would have, had it not been for a global pandemic, learning how to be an ally in racial reconciliation, a sticky election season, and whatnot. Something that would bring my discipline of thinking about and loving God to a different place than just missing my nightly chocolate chip cookies would do. You too?

Because there comes a point when giving up the same thing over and over isn’t really a sacrifice anymore. It’s a go-to, it’s a bargain we make with a God who won’t be bargained with. Not for our affection, not for our obedience, not for our hearts. The cookies/candy/sugar just doesn’t seem like enough. Plus, I don’t have a problem with cookies. They are a treat for my tired-mom self and I think that’s okay. I think removing the most relaxing part of my day is not the point.

I think closeness with God and quieting the soul is the point.

So then, what? What could I incorporate into my life for the Lenten season that would:
a) accomplish the purpose of keeping this sacrificial season in mind; and
b) be meaningful?

I thought: Why don’t you write?

Write what?

I know that seems like a funny question for a writer, but there it is.

Much like the Advent season, when I stopped attending the Catholic church and started in a mainstream Evangelical church, I stopped learning about the reverence of these seasons. And I want to. I want to learn about and practice the reverence of these seasons.

I want to stop clenching my jaw on the daily.
I want to breathe better.
I want to rest.

And to be honest, resting in the completeness of Christ is my favorite rest of all.

So from Ash Wednesday through Easter, I’ll be writing a Lenten Short every day based on Trevor Hudson’s Pauses for Lent and/or a C.S. Lewis collection called Preparing for Easter. A simple, meaningful devotional of sorts, to move us through the Lent season with purpose, with hopeful anticipation of one of the greatest events in human history.

Join me here, get this Lenten Short in your email box every day from now through Easter Sunday, or find me on Instagram & I’ll have a story each day with a Lent highlight.