The season of Lent is a time for preparing our hearts. It is a space in which we reflect upon the fissures of brokenness spread throughout our lives and the world around us. We take stock of our growth edges and our weaknesses, and we strive to make ourselves ready for the refining and burgeoning hope of Easter.

Lent helps us to see the value in the practice of preparation as we strive to carve out moments of reflection and contemplation. We may find ourselves breezing by or discounting moments that are meant to give us a moment to breathe and take in what is before us. Lent shows us the value of taking that pause, taking that time for reflection. It is a period of 40 days in the church calendar leading up to Easter. And in these 40 days, we are reminded of our mortality and our reliance on God, the one who promises everlasting life. It is celebrated in communities of faith beginning on Ash Wednesday, where the practice of placing ashes upon one’s head serves as a reminder of our humble origins and ultimate ending apart from Jesus.

The season of Lent is often engaged through fasting. This stems from Jesus’ time in the desert where he was tempted but did not succumb to his temptations. By engaging this practice, we are reminded in our fasting of the power of temptation in our own lives. We are faced with the tension between our wants and our desire to empty ourselves of all that keeps our eyes off Jesus. In other ways, fasting urges us to adopt a posture focused wholly on God.

Lent offers us the moment's pause to really see the value of setting down the distractions of daily living so that we can turn our gaze to what truly matters. Jesus never wavers from going back to the truth, resisting temptation out of his perfect reliance on God while in the desert. The act of fasting reminds us of our need to depend on God every day.

Interestingly, Lent invites us to look back on the time when Jesus was preparing for his death and resurrection. Those before us—the disciples—did not know what he was doing then, not the way we do today, learning from and leaning into the Gospels. Even so, there is a tension that builds as we approach the time when Jesus will meet the cross and death, a tension that doesn’t come out of surprise but out of our knowledge of what Jesus willingly chose to endure on our behalf. Jesus knew the outcome, just as we do now, and he continued forward with faith.

Lent is much like the Japanese art of kintsugi. Potters take broken pieces of pottery and see beyond the brokenness. They practice the art of reclaimed beauty as they look at what can be in the shadow of what was. As they hold on to that vision of wholeness, they mend the cracks with gold, rejoining the pieces not exactly as they were before but instead creating something new.

Similarly, Lent moves us to examine the broken pieces of our lives and see the future of reclaimed beauty when the pieces are reunited as one again. Lent allows us to discover the larger pieces of the configuration of redemption in our lives and see that ultimately the restorative love of Easter is what pulls us together in shalom, perfect wholeness.

The season of Lent is a time for preparing our hearts. It is a space in which we reflect upon the fissures of brokenness spread throughout our lives and the world around us. We take stock of our growth edges and our weaknesses, and we strive to make ourselves ready for the refining and burgeoning hope of Easter.

Lent helps us to see the value in the practice of preparation as we strive to carve out moments of reflection and contemplation. We may find ourselves breezing by or discounting moments that are meant to give us a moment to breathe and take in what is before us. Lent shows us the value of taking that pause, taking that time for reflection. It is a period of 40 days in the church calendar leading up to Easter. And in these 40 days, we are reminded of our mortality and our reliance on God, the one who promises everlasting life. It is celebrated in communities of faith beginning on Ash Wednesday, where the practice of placing ashes upon one’s head serves as a reminder of our humble origins and ultimate ending apart from Jesus.

The season of Lent is often engaged through fasting. This stems from Jesus’ time in the desert where he was tempted but did not succumb to his temptations. By engaging this practice, we are reminded in our fasting of the power of temptation in our own lives. We are faced with the tension between our wants and our desire to empty ourselves of all that keeps our eyes off Jesus. In other ways, fasting urges us to adopt a posture focused wholly on God.

Lent offers us the moment's pause to really see the value of setting down the distractions of daily living so that we can turn our gaze to what truly matters. Jesus never wavers from going back to the truth, resisting temptation out of his perfect reliance on God while in the desert. The act of fasting reminds us of our need to depend on God every day.

Interestingly, Lent invites us to look back on the time when Jesus was preparing for his death and resurrection. Those before us—the disciples—did not know what he was doing then, not the way we do today, learning from and leaning into the Gospels. Even so, there is a tension that builds as we approach the time when Jesus will meet the cross and death, a tension that doesn’t come out of surprise but out of our knowledge of what Jesus willingly chose to endure on our behalf. Jesus knew the outcome, just as we do now, and he continued forward with faith.

Lent is much like the Japanese art of kintsugi. Potters take broken pieces of pottery and see beyond the brokenness. They practice the art of reclaimed beauty as they look at what can be in the shadow of what was. As they hold on to that vision of wholeness, they mend the cracks with gold, rejoining the pieces not exactly as they were before but instead creating something new.

Similarly, Lent moves us to examine the broken pieces of our lives and see the future of reclaimed beauty when the pieces are reunited as one again. Lent allows us to discover the larger pieces of the configuration of redemption in our lives and see that ultimately the restorative love of Easter is what pulls us together in shalom, perfect wholeness.