Lent for Beginners

@audreycfrank

And as he rode along, they spread their cloaks on the road. As he approached the road leading down from the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works they had seen: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” Luke 19:36-38, NET

My early introduction to the Easter season was a small country church where little girls like me wore new dresses, hats, gloves, and white patent leather shoes. We awoke to Easter baskets left by the Easter bunny, overflowing with chocolate and jelly beans. After church, we would race around the churchyard searching for brightly colored plastic eggs. 

Jesus was the reason for the season, and He had risen, indeed. But I have to admit I looked forward to those jellybeans most of all.

As I grew up, I suppose I heard about Lent somewhere. But the first clear memory I have happened when I was fresh out of college and working at my first real job. My employer, an elegant woman whom I longed desperately to emulate, arrived at our office for our early morning meeting with a black smudge on her forehead. At the first opportunity, worried for her embarrassment, I leaned close and whispered, “Miriam, you have something on your forehead.” To make it clear, I motioned discreetly to my own forehead, a look of concern wrinkling my brow as I generously sought to save face for my esteemed boss.

“It’s Ash Wednesday. I stopped by church on my way to work this morning because I knew what a busy day I will have and might not make it later,” she explained with a twinkle in her Catholic eyes.

Now I was the one who was embarrassed.

One year later, my husband and I sold all our belongings and with two trunks moved to Africa to live with a people group who had largely never heard of the Savior, nevertheless Lent.

But it was in that unlikely place that Lent became real and essential to me. In a remote African village, church looked much different than anything I’d ever encountered. For the first year, we did not even have a building but met under a palm-leaf roof with no walls, or under a baobab tree. There was no piano, but rather homemade drums and the sweet harmonies of voices seasoned by years of singing around the evening village fires. The Bible was not yet completely translated into the local language, so the Word was declared by the pastor and preserved in the hearts of the people where it would be repeated and retold again and again.

I was hungry to feed my own soul, so I began seeking rich and timeless resources to sustain me. The writings of disciples like Thomas À Kempis, Amy Carmichael, Brother Lawrence, and Samuel Rutherford nourished my soul and began to form in me new disciplines. The idea of anticipating the Resurrection of Christ every year with intentionality and spiritual reflection was greatly appealing to me and I adopted it as my own.

As he approached… 

The scene Luke recorded as it unfolded down the Mount of Olives became much more to me than the happy song I had often sung as a child. The Triumphal Entry filled me with anticipation, joy, and expectation as I strained my spiritual neck to get a glimpse of the coming King. 

Because of Lent, Easter became my favorite holiday in a land without jellybeans.

And as he rode along, they spread their cloaks on the road.

Moving to Africa has a way of removing the cloak of busyness. I had gone from a land of frenzied productivity to a place where the gentle people accomplished the same necessary work day after day and rested in the evening with satisfaction. Watching us, they dubbed us wazungu, which literally means she who spins around and around. It took me some time to stop spinning and begin sitting with my neighbors. But eventually, I laid that cloak aside. 

Living in a mud house has a way of removing the cloak of materialism. With my one china teacup, I drank a strong, hot cup of tea each morning before the village awoke and praised God for the simplicity of life among the poor. I marveled at how possible it was to live without electricity, running water, or a bathtub.

Now I live in a land of luxury and plenty, in a house that boasts two ovens and two bathtubs. I have cupboards full of teacups and teapots. I am spinning again many days, trying to pack each day full with accomplishment. 

But every Lent I find myself returning to the same simple principles. Lay down the busyness and throw it before the coming king. Take off the cloak of materialism and spread it before Him. He is coming, and that is all that matters.

When I do this, Lent spills over into the rest of my year and I slow down and simplify.

Lent eventually becomes a lifestyle for those who embrace it. #Lent #Easter #discipleship Share on X

…his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works they had seen: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

I had surely witnessed mighty works, and as I lay down my own cloaks to make way for the King, my heart flooded with praise. Lent makes room for reflection on the mighty works God has done in our lives. Lent makes room for praise. The cares of life crowd out reflection and praise. Lent is an opportunity to dedicate time to both.

Whether you are a beginner or an ash-smudge bearing Lent expert, this season offers the opportunity to reset your spirit, mind, and relationship with the coming King. For be assured, He is coming.

Lord, help me set my heart on You this Lent season, laying aside my cloaks to make room for praise and reflection. Amen.