The snow and ice storms which stretched the length of the United States in the past weeks felt a bit like Lent to me this year. It was forecasted but when it arrived, it ushered in more disruption than envisioned.

We were fortunate to not have any issues with power. However, the days of snow and freezing rain caused our patio awning to partially collapse. The buckling of the metal pinned our back door, barring us from access. During the ensuing days, prior to demolition, every family member descended the stairs, grabbed the doorknob, and only then remembered there wasn’t a way out. 

I often try to access God through the back door. I gather my tools coupled with good, hard work, believing my entrance comes with a list of attached strings.

When in reality, no one has instructed me to enter this way and especially not God. He has thrust open the front door, held up a sign of welcome. He’s not worried about my muddy shoes or failure to unlace them upon my arrival. 

His arms are expansive, eyes full of delight, a shaking finger not in sight. His demand is a full embrace, the only admission price.

How often I am like sweaty Martha peeking out of the kitchen wondering who has time to sit when there is so much to be done, completely missing who has entered my front door. 

I miss His offer of rest.

I turn my back as He beckons me to hand over my burdens.

My murmuring from the list of what I fear must be abandoned, causes me to not hear Him say,

“Come to Me.”

This Lenten season, I am endeavoring to step away from some of my daily practices in favor of smaller ones, in the hopes of cultivating a deeper sense of reflection.

May I:

*choose less to be enfolded by more

*allow some checkboxes to remain hollow

*remember perfection is a weight designed to block my access to freedom

*present myself as a flawed person in great need of a Savior

In the span of an hour, our damaged awning was torn down and hauled away.

We can see the sky and newfound light as it easily funnels through the back door window. 

Doors are meant to allow entrance.

I simply want to remember to place my hands on the correct handles.