A friend noted that I hadn't blogged since Valentine's Day--which was also the second day in Lent. That's pretty much a comment on my Lenten disciplines.
I grew up in the Southern Baptist tradition, and while, as a result, tithing comes like breathing to me, Lenten practices are always a stretch.
I've decided that my wilderness this Lent is cherishing the moments of quiet in the midst of the busiest Lent I've ever had. For most, giving up the busyness is part of their Lenten practice; I know most years it had been that way for me. But a Lenten aha for me this year is that the busyness is my Lenten wilderness. How do I keep God at my center while the world whirls and whirls?
For ten years, I've traveled in Lent to Tybee Island, Georgia, a few miles outside of Savannah. This is a largely residential beach community; there's little here to attract youth on Spring Break, which makes it perfect for me. Over halfway through Lent, I'm stopping to catch my breath, which may mean, actually, the Breath of God.
The locals call the slower pace of this island community, Tybee Time. For me, this year, Tybee Time may be another name for remembering to stop long enough to behold our God who is already waiting with arms open wide.