Taking the Long Walk Together

Today the journey begins, the long walk of faith that will lead us eventually to a lonely hill and an empty tomb. We will be traveling light these next forty days, no baggage to carry and none of the trappings and distractions of our normal routines. One by one we lay down and leave behind those godless charms and trinkets that have held our gaze for too long, until our hands are free and our pockets empty.

As we walk we cannot escape the blazing sun, the glaring searchlight of the Spirit, illuminating every dark corner of our willful, wayward minds. Step by step we must trudge through the barren wilderness of self-examination, our hearts laid bare before the One who sees all. Caught in the reality of our sin, we can no longer rationalize. Exposed before God, we can only confess. "Lord have mercy on me, a sinner."

In that moment, there in the scorching wasteland of repentance, the cool, clear water rushes in, swirling around our feet, a rising flood of forgiveness, until we can bathe in it, even swim in the current of God's grace. The Spirit washes away the stains, scrubbing behind our ears, and finally wrapping us in the embrace of His love.

A deep hunger stirs in our bellies, growling for more than bread or meat, craving only the Body and Blood and holiness of character. A prayer to walk in a new day, a new way, a new person, like walking out of your own tomb on Easter morning.

No one said it would be an easy, pleasant journey, more likely painful and convicting. But if you long to see your own stone roll away, take the long walk of Lent.