Lingering Winter

Leaning into Lent

February began with a snowy blast of winter here in the usually warmer South. Cold winds and a dusting of snow filled the air. Though we missed the thick ice and snow from Winter Storm Fern, we caught the edges of Gianna’s moody weather. Our kitchen continually wafted fragrant aromas. The comfort of chicken soup with plenty of vegetables, and Bob’s signature cornbread with pecans’ earthy flavors, warmed us. Beyond the kitchen window, nuthatches, cardinals, and doves hovered around the bird feeders as the wind howled.

My husband’s been an athlete his whole life. He and his best mate, Jeff, were co-captains of their high school football team. Bob went on to star in rugby matches at the US Air Force Academy, in the US Western Rugby Football Club, numerous tournaments worldwide, and, eventually, as an “Old Boy” on the pitch in Aspen at Ruggerfest. Sports stories run thick through his storied life. I like to stay active, yet I’m more of a sports observer as the years pass.

We both admire the excellence of athletes who train their bodies for events like the Olympics, Six Nations Rugby, or the Super Bowl. Can you guess which of us prefers which events to watch? What about you? Which will capture your attention?

I’m still getting the hang of our new-to-us-used Buick, which replaced our quite ancient vehicle just as December 2025 ended. Our new rule is that whenever we go somewhere, we have to learn one new thing about the car and its extensive owner’s manual.

It beeps and whirs at me, showing me how to back up with fancy cameras. Since it’s wider and longer than our previous vehicle, I’ve had an unexpected struggle parking it between the white lines! I laugh at my inaccurate attempts. You’d think I was a new driver rather than a seasoned one.

Change is good, and change isn’t easy. Familiarity settles in comfortably; new modes invite butterflies of upheaval, along with new ways of thinking and acting. Whether I work with writers creating nonfiction works of wonder and novels that step beyond the obvious to deep, soulful places, or with directees and retreatants who are reflectively present in spiritual direction or the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, being reshaped brings good, holy, and hard wrestling. What’s reshaping you these days?

Ash Wednesday opens the door to Lent next week. We move from the season of Epiphany into the season of repentance, which leads us to the season of resurrection joy. Dust we are, and to dust we shall return. Memento Mori reminds us that we shall all die one day. We are fragile, and God is unshakeable. We are those who turn aside from God, and He is the One who pursues us with such great affection.

Lent invites me to examine where I too easily turn aside to my ways rather than to God’s desires. I notice places where I talk a good line, yet don’t always live out what I say. I scrutinize this ugly pull in me toward the easier path, a life free of suffering filled instead with more comfort, and the lure of the kingdom of me-dom. Jesus won’t have it. He kindly yet firmly strips away the veneer I wear so easily. I observe how Jesus lives, authentic and true, infused with the fragrant aroma and depth of love. He invites me to become like Him, humble and servant-hearted. Oh, humility. It invites as it severs the tangle of pride. As several of my retreatants and directees are reading Andrew Murray’s Humility: The Journey Toward Holiness, I, too, will be revisiting it in Lent. Care to join me?

When that ugly pull of pride rises strong, when I think I deserve better, Elisabeth Elliot’s words ring in my ears, “Does God ask us to do what is beneath us? This question will never trouble us again if we consider the Lord of heaven taking a towel and washing feet.”

I don’t want to be haughty, thinking wrongly of myself. I am always learning the way of Jesus. He is love poured out. I want to be like Him, humble in the wildest of ways. I will linger in Lent with Jesus. I imagine many long conversations about humility, and, if I know His ways, he will offer daily opportunities to try it on for size in new ways.

Reading The Journals of Jim Elliot reignites the fire to follow Christ. He said, “Keep exercising your spiritual muscle; don’t get flabby.” Hmm. Flabby comes a bit too easily to me. His intentionality as a young college student at Wheaton certainly prepared him for mission work, which led to his martyrdom. “In worship for the Great King, I would know how to press into Thy hand the fresh juice of living worship, not the hardened dead meat which is only in my head and quickly plucked away by the Plunderer. I would put Thy truth to practice…” This. Let my worship be fresh and living, Lord, please!

Since the wily Plunderer’s ways are exposed in C. S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters, Lent seems an appropriate time to consider the enemy of our souls’ tactics, doesn’t it? I look forward to returning to this classic during the upcoming season of penitent reflection.

I wonder… do you have a friend who loves the same authors you do? I hope you have a friend like that who goes soul-deep with you. If you don’t have one yet, keep praying and watching the horizon for that gift.

Since college days, my friend Lynne and I have carried on a running conversation about books we nibble on. Every few years, we read the same book during Lent. Then, as we wait in carpool lines to pick up our respective grandchildren while we are three states apart, we discuss lofty ideas and profound lines. This year, we will delve into Wardrobes and Rings: Through Lenten Lands with the Inklings –by Julia Golding, Malcolm Guite, and Simon Horobin. Forty days with the Inklings during Lent will be splendid indeed and will surely allow for conversations about places in need of repentance.

What grips you as a place of needed repentance as Lent begins soon?

I recently discovered an older Josh Garrels song, “At the Table.” It speaks eloquently of how God warmly embraces us, even though we’ve moved away, in minute or long-lasting ways. We are welcomed home to the table with Him. God’s love loosens the firm grip of sin, much as Winter’s grip will soon lessen when March brings warmer weather. Azaleas will bloom here before we know it, bringing their riot of color to the grayed-out landscape of winter.

Hold on, friends. This long winter shall not always blow cold and stark upon us. Spring will indeed come, reminding us that new life is always coming toward us.

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PS - Last week I you to consider what it means to create habits like an Olympian as well as a reflection guide to create your own habits. If you’re a paid Substack subscriber, these resources are sent to you multiple times a month.