As I walked into the softly lit sanctuary, something in the room appeared to hush the noise of the day beyond the softly falling snow outside. It brought a welcoming quiet, an invitation to pause, reflect, and consider once more.

 

It was Ash Wednesday just a few years ago, the traditional beginning of Lent, the 40 days prior to the celebration of Easter, the provision for our salvation.

 

As the worship music began, it too had been chosen to turn our hearts, minds, and spirits to ponder and examine the relationship at the center of my life. The lyrics and the melodies invited meditation.

 

It can be far too easy not to stop for this day on the calendar in many of our non-Catholic churches.  It also can be too easy to get lost in traditions and lose track of its purpose.

 

Lent is a time for examining my heart.  It is a time to pause in the doing of my life, even the doing for Him.  Lent is a time for being with Him, a time of soberly considering the condition of my life.

 

Lent is a time to remember. 

 

It is a time to consider the horror of the cross was necessary for my sin, my unrighteousness. It is a time to remember no matter how long I have known Him that I have no righteousness of my own. And it is time to mull over my human weaknesses that can still tempt me to fall prey to their seductions.

 

What does it really mean to follow Christ, to deny myself and follow Him?

 

I think it is less about denying myself some thing I enjoy and more about denying me, me and all that is not Him within me. 

 

As I enter Lent and approach Good Friday, it means identifying with a dead man even as I recognize the death He suffered was my fate were it not for Him.

 

It is more than going along with Him, following Him in that way, and more about walking like Him in the very fabric of my being and demonstrated by my attitudes, actions, and affections.

 

As the pastor shared the meditation he had prepared, he spoke of what it means to remove the leaven in our lives as well as what leaven signified.  The yeast in leavened bread decays causing it to rise and symbolizes my sin.

 

Lent is a time to examine my heart for evidences of sin, to quiet myself during this season and repent so that the leaven is removed once more by the sacrifice of His death on the cross.

 

Certainly, I (and likely you) can identify specific places where sin has slipped in, but the pastor encouraged me and all of us present to look deeper and remember “Peas Are Green and Little”.

 

He used the sentence to imprint our minds with the seven deadly sins that so easily can slip into our lives unacknowledged too often. He spoke also of the significance of listing pride first since it holds so much power in each of our lives in obvious as well as subtle ways.

 

Peas Are Green and Little:

• Pride
• Envy
• Anger
• Slothfulness
• Avarice
• Gluttony
• Lasciviousness

 

I can be tempted at first glance to dismiss the thought that I have fallen prey to any of these seven deadly sins, but that in itself exposes pride.

 

Would it be possible during this Lenten season to seek the Lord for humility to erase pride, contentment to erase envy, gentleness to erase anger, serving to replace slothfulness, giving to replace avarice, fasting to combat gluttony, and purity to knock out lasciviousness? Impossible?  No, not impossible because of the cross, but also not possible without my recognition of those things that are present as well as my repentance for them.

 

As I walked forward to take the unleavened bread and the cup, I sensed the Lord affirming the need to sacrifice and deal with “Peas (that) Are Green and Little” rather than some material thing that could dull my senses about what the real issues are that need to be put to death and sacrificed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The March calendar announces that spring will be here within a few weeks, but only time will reveal if there is evidence that shows up on the date on the calendar. Winter tends to not let go of her control easily during this month.

 

Even if we see the sun more often and hear birdsong early in the morning as the month marches forward, most days will be overcast. There will be rain and snow will be no stranger, sometimes giving us a display we missed for Christmas.

 

Recent storms leave lawns littered with branches and limbs pruned by the windy gusts. Those same gusts resurrect leftover fall leaves from wherever they were hidden and swirl them around garage doors and patios.

 

The best homes in the neighborhood look strained from the wintry months. Paint looks dingier and windows no longer gleam as they wear the grime left from winter’s weather combos. Shrubbery is broken down in places snow rested too heavily or too long. Grass still hides its greenery under the dun color evident now.

 

Winter also reveals the weakness of a house and the land it sets on. No one notices the roof’s leaky shingles or the clogged downspouts in the month of June. Parts of the foundation are now visible that are hidden when the grass is lush and green and an array of flowers appears in the landscape.

 

Winter tries and tests the condition of a house and property. Winter’s wear and tear exposes the truth in March. Only heavy snow (if it comes) can hide the weaknesses winter’s months make known.

 

I think our lives are sometimes a bit like March when the beauty of Christmas has passed, but the hope of spring has not yet come.

 

It is in a wintry hard season that we are tested and our vulnerabilities are uncovered. Whatever the season brings us, reminds us we are mortal. The season brings to light our mettle.

 

It is in winter we learn or rediscover the strength of our beliefs, our relationships, our stewardship, and our character. A wintry hard season strips us of the façade we may think of as real and that others believe is the truth of who we are. This season shuts up our quick solutions and easy answers because they point to how empty they can be.

 

Such a season prunes us of the things that are unnecessary and reminds us of what is vital. Such a season awakens an appetite for only what truly nourishes our souls and only words that speak life.

 

It is now we find out the source and depth of our faith and those on whom we can count. It is now we see clearly even though the gray murky weather would suggest otherwise.

 

Wintry seasons gift us with understanding that sustains us for the unexpected storms of spring and summer. Wintry seasons shore up our priorities and point us to what is crucial that carefree summer days never do. Wintry seasons unveil what the showy displays of summer and autumn conceal in their vibrant colors.

 

Wintry seasons can also quiet our souls so we can hear the whispers of the Lord more easily. No sunshine entices us outdoors so we may linger in prayer or the Word a bit longer. We can bask in the warmth of the Lord’s presence and rekindle intimacy with Him.

 

We think of summer as the growing season, but the truth is that it is in the winter that we grow.

 

Hard wintry seasons weather us, develop endurance, and cause the roots of our faith to burrow wider and deeper into the truth it brings to light.

 

Sometime soon crocuses will peek above the cold wintry soil and daylight will linger into the evening, but for now I will enjoy the gifts late winter have deposited in my life.

 

³ But that’s not all! Even in times of trouble we have a joyful confidence, knowing that our pressures will develop in us patient endurance. ⁴ And patient endurance will refine our character, and proven character leads us back to hope. ⁵ And this hope is not a disappointing fantasy, because we can now experience the endless love of God cascading into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who lives in us!”

Romans 5: 3-5 (TPT)

 

 

 

 

I recall so well the directive to my children when they were small about holding onto my hand as we were shopping, crossing a street, or parking lot. At that time, they were unaware of the potential dangers in such places if their little hands were not firmly in my grasp.

 

Children are curious and it can be easy to wander away and lose track of where a parent is.

 

I saw my children have the same rule for their children, my grandchildren. As with me, this was a non-negotiable rule. The risks were too great not to insist on it.

 

I recall once when my daughter was near me in a store and I did not hold her hand. It was one of those clothing stores with “rounder’s” here and there with clothes hanging on them as well as the usual shelves and racks along the wall. She was weary of my looking through the racks and plunked herself down on the floor. Suddenly, I realized she was not beside me and I could not immediately find her under the racks of clothing. The panic I felt was enormous.

 

That kind of environment is a bit like being in a cornfield. It seems simple enough when you walk into the cornfield, but soon you realize you have no orientation about where you are or which way to walk in which row to be able to get back to where you started. (Yes, I experienced that as a girl living on a farm. It’s amazing how easily it can happen!)

 

An even scarier memory was when we were visiting our son and his family one fall. We had all gone into their small town for a fall festival. The streets were filled with vendors celebrating the season as well as various stalls and tents with games for children of all ages to explore.

 

We were all having a great time and enjoying the music, food, and celebration when we suddenly realized our grandson was not with us. The streets had been closed to traffic and there were crowds of people everywhere. We had no idea where to look for him. Each of us fanned out, began looking and calling out his name.

 

I cannot recall how long it took us to locate him, but it felt like a lifetime. When we found him, he was perched on a set of risers that had been set up where a concert was going to take place. The musicians were warming up and he was sitting there calmly listening.

 

It reminded me of what Mary and Joseph must have felt when they realized Jesus was not with them as they were on their way home from Jerusalem.

 

A good grip is crucial many times to our safety, but what are you holding onto?

 

I have a vivid memory of walking down our basement steps a few years ago with a good grip on more hanging clothes than I should have been trying to carry. I am notorious for trying to carry a lot of things so I don’t need to make so many trips whether it is bringing things in from the car or something like this scene.

 

You know how steps in your house can be. You have a certain muscle memory for how far you step between each one so you don’t even have to think about it or even look (or so it seems).

 

So I wasn’t thinking or looking and could not see with the armful of clothing I had, I was not even afraid it was an unwise decision. On this day, however, I misjudged which step I was on and skipped the last step and landed on the floor crying out in pain from what was a very badly sprained ankle.

 

It is not just when we are young that we need a good grip. It happens also when we are older and perhaps less steady on our feet or not as strong to maintain a good balance.

 

There is something else we must hold fast to as well that is no less crucial than a parent’s hand or a handrail. Failing to do so can be no less deadly.

 

The writer of Hebrews reminds us in the second chapter that we are to be careful about what we have heard regarding our salvation so we don’t drift away from it.

 

You see, when we have received gospel truths into our minds, we can let them slip away from us. Our minds can be like a leaky vessel. The entanglements with the world, snares of the enemy, and neglect can allow the good things of the gospel to slip from our minds, our practices, our choices, and our behaviors.

 

As I checked out the Message version of Hebrews 2:1, I was reminded of the many examples I have already listed above:

 

“It’s crucial that we keep a firm grip on what we’ve heard so that we don’t drift off.” Heb. 2:1 (The Message)

 

Life is busy.

 

We can get distracted.

 

We can let go of our Father’s hand, drift away, and not realize where we are.

 

 How is your grip?