As I shared earlier this month, I’ve decided to give up prayer for Lent. Maybe not all prayer, but lengthy prayers in my personal time with God because I realize how mindless, unspecific, and inattentive I’ve become in my prayer life.
That’s why I’m giving up prayer for Lent. Or at least long prayers. I’m committed to only offering God three word prayers.
Since I began this journey, I’ve found myself becoming more focused in prayer life, more sensitive to God’s presence, and more aware of my dependence. My prayers have transformed from extended moments of ramblement to hand-selected words of petition, thanksgiving, and worship.
Over the last two weeks something new has been happening. My prayers have slowly been reducing from three words to two to one until I’ve found myself entering a rich silence with God. Not the kind of silence that’s founded in anger or unspeakable words or a lack of connection, but a silence that sets in when two lifelong friends can enjoy each others company without exchanging a single word.
This kind of silence isn’t uncomfortable, but the far opposite extreme. The silence feels like that well-worn in couch, where you prop up your feet because the foot rest is the perfect distance away and you find yourself melting into the cushions. The longer you sit the less you want to move. Your eyes grow heavy, not because you’re tired, but because you’re rested, fully yourself, without any need to do anything at all–except be you.
In this place with God, the words are few, nearly nonexistent, yet I can’t help but find more refreshed, more connected to God than when I began on this Lenten journey.
As I’ve reflected on the progression, this transformation in my own prayer life, I can’t help but note that there’s a certain irony in the way we approach Lent. All too often the question becomes, “What are you giving up for Lent?” Responses range from chocolate to technology to potato chips. Maybe the better question is, “What are trying to lay hold of through Lent?”
If we asked this question instead, I think we’d find ourselves responding with much less predictable, even slightly surprising answers.
What are you trying to lay hold of through Lent?
Silence…..so easily lost in the cacophony of our modern world.
Peace…..so easily misplaced when we forget the importance of rest.
Joy…..so easily exchanged for empty marketing promises.
Holy expectation…..so easily traded for busyness and deadlines.
Myself…..so easily suppressed in the name of conformity and efficiency.
Maybe, just maybe, Lent is about laying hold of something, or rather Someone. In the silence, I’m beginning to find God in greater measure.
Now I must ask you: What are you trying to lay hold of through Lent?
Image from here.
