Lean In

When the 40 desert days drew to a close, And Your empty, worn down body cried, “Seek comfort!” “You deserve it!” My Lord, what did You do? Lean in.

That agonizing night, knowing what dawn would bring, When Your being, dripping with sweaty blood cried out, “Avoid pain!” “You don’t deserve to suffer!” My Lord, what did You do? Lean in.

On that terrible Friday we call good, When Your humanity screamed, “Give up!” “They don’t deserve it!” Resolutely embracing the rough, splintered instrument of your death, Allowing Yourself to be stretched, My Lord, what did You do? Lean in.

Then, there’s little me, during these meager 40 days, A time of purification, of small sacrifices, my humanity cries, “Seek comfort!” “Avoid pain!” My Lord, won’t you help me lean in?

When my gut cries, “Sweets!” “Wine!” “You deserve it!” Let me crave the food of your Word and the bread of Eternal Life.

When daily tasks overwhelm, And I crave the distraction of scrolling or validation of notifications, Let me lean in to the moment, To the child. To the laundry. To the cooking, cleaning, straightening. To the paperwork and the deadlines. To the time of silent prayer. Whatever it is, my Lord, let me lean in.

Let my temper not be controlled by my caffeine intake. Let my ability to love well not be controlled by the warm or stormy weather. Let my love for you not wane when I don’t get what I want.

When my little crosses stretch me, When tiny daily deaths tempt me to scream, “I give up!” Instead may I relentlessly pursue salvation, My Lord, this Lent, won’t You give me the grace to lean in?

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