Lilt: Stepping Gently toward Easter via Lent
“Lilt” in Lent? Well yes, the word’s synonyms suggest faith on the upswing: spirited, buoyant, springy.
How on earth can I consider those words next to these concerns from the friend of my friend? She’s scared sleepless over her cousins in Ukraine, young mothers whose husbands must enlist. Do they need money? How can she send it? How will grandparents and nieces and nephews safely escape with banks closed, airports occupied, gas stations emptied?
How can I allow weightiness once again to enlarge my heart, carve room for deepening mercy? Those wiser than I claim prayers of lament will, in time, bring transfiguration: glint by glimmer, a luminous trail, the sparks flying upward.
But what in heaven’s name can “lilt” mean in relation to war? I am fed, sheltered, privileged. I am safe. For now.
When the heart is wracked, how do we navigate dissonance?
Faith, we know, watches for holy rescues. Keeps vigils. Fasts and prays. Celebrates God’s provisions, seen and unseen.
This Lent especially calls me to lament and repentance. Can this also invite me toward heart-lightening remembrance?
Here’s what I say to my soul:
- Spend time on those knees—in between time spent listening, at His.
- Offer up small surrenders in sober reverence and quiet joy.
- Engage more deeply with the reality of the Passion so as to embody compassion.
- Grab the children and tell them the truest stories—that we are made for God. That we are called toward binding up wounds as well as abounding in grace. Help them understand this:
Dear Lent, you are ashes and daffodils,
fasting and feasting,
foot washing and footloose, resurrection-bound praise cutting a rug.
Here is my Lenten List (I hope you’ll add to it):
- Write yourself a note. Tuck it inside your fridge, silverware drawer, medicine cabinet—wherever you’ll come upon it: Hello there, you agent of whimsy. What will you and Perfect Love do next?
- Peel a tangerine. Pray over a different country as you savor each segment. Lick your fingers to say Amen.
- Talk things over with a local bird, or use this captivating video close-up of a mourning dove: And may the dove who descended upon Christ at the Jordan alight near you and those you love today.
- Make a lap. Now remember the lap of someone who held you. Let your Bible fall open, right there on your knees. Read out a fitting word, phrase, or verse(s) in blessing. Then improvise, perhaps sensing you and your someone welcomed anew into God’s embrace.
- Do you collect quotes? If not, you could start here: “During the night everything has been remade for you. Merely to breathe is a happy adventure.” —J. B. Priestly, Delight
- When rampant darkness between people overwhelms you, browse Photo Ark Wonders, by the “Modern-day Noah,” Joel Sartore, for National Geographic.
I consider “lilt” a relative term. This morning I hobbled around waving a long scarf over my head, like one of those small but undaunted gymnasts armed with banners. In Christ, my soul is a secret Olympian.
Bet yours is too.
What would you add to the list?
P.S. Invite scent to trigger memory. Before making your bed, mist your pillowcase with a scent you enjoy (or tuck a dryer sheet inside it). Anticipate Spirit-led time travel when you tuck yourself in tonight. Then again, the fact of shelter, the bed, and a warm room is already grace, and more than enough.
You might also enjoy Kyrie Eleison: Seeking Mercy
Mourning Dove Photo by Joshua J. Cotten on Unsplash
I was riding in the car with my daughter-in-law, trying to describe to her what a brilliant poet, superb photographer and amazing essayist you are. I realized I should just have her check out your work for herself! I treasure every word and image you share on your blogs. Thank you for your faithfulness to your readers, our loving God, and to your practice. You are a true gift in the world.❤️
Dear Pacia, you are a gift to me. One that keeps on giving . . .
Thank you for letting me know the work rings true. That means a lot, coming from you.
Blessings on you and C this Easter Day. May joy abound!
Dissonance.
Holy rescue.
Say to my soul.
Binding up wounds.
Abounding in grace.
Talk things over with a local bird.
Make a lap.
Read out a fitting word.
Improvise.
Lilt.
These all echo.
Thank you.
Good morning, Rick. I am so grateful to read your list poem this morning. And I’m ever grateful for your prayers and presence here.
Thank you for this beautiful contemplative post, Laurie. I love how you offer these unique and practical ways to approach prayer, calm, and connection during this astounding time.
“Dear Lent, you are ashes and daffodils”
“How can I allow weightiness once again to enlarge my heart, carve room for deepening mercy? Those wiser than I claim prayers of lament will, in time, bring transfiguration: glint by glimmer, a luminous trail, the sparks flying upward.”
Dear Bethany, thank you. I am deeply grateful the thoughts and ideas here resonated with you.
Those three words, “prayer, calm, and connection,” rivet my attention. I am “paused,” at present, a bit stuck as I revise an essay. I realize I’m allowing haste to rattle me. You remind me to sink inward toward that grace-given interface. I am breathing more deeply as I type my thanks.
Oh, sweet friend, I hear you. May you find continued respite for your soul as you nestle under the shadow of his wings (Psalm 91). Praying for you now~
Feeling it. Immersing therein. What a gift!
As you said, “we are safe, for now.” The temporary nature of things in my life include my health, wealth, faith, and many other things. I had a Polish immigrant neighbor who had survived the Nazi occupation. She told me of a Polish saying that I tell myself sometimes. “Things are not so bad if they can still get worse.” I have two houses and planned to sell one in month or two. It has hot water heat with radiators. The boiler failed and all the radiator and some of the pipes were destroyed by freezing. But the house is still standing and the damage can be repaired “Things are not so bad if they can still get worse.”
Oh man, how dismaying the collision of machinery, plumbing, and weather. The best laid plans, etc. I have always admired your optimism and do so again now, amid the needed outlay of cash and labor to make things right and ready for a buyer. I feel sobered by your neighbor’s measured outlook (I picture a long-suffering shrug as she says it). The Polish saying also makes me nod with understanding, even smile a little. She brings realistic humor to bear upon the unthinkable as well as the everyday hassles of life. I will remember this. Thank you!
I don’t know if I told you this but 5 tears ago prior to knee surgery my heart stopped for 8.5 minutes. I always felt fortunate but since then I’ve felt oh so lucky.
Wow, talk about a gift! Eight minutes of in between, then another run at life. So glad for you, and for the rest of us who know you. :>)
This is lovely, Laurie ~ Thank you from a lilting heart, one choice at a time ❦
Oh that’s the secret, isn’t it, “one choice at a time.” Thank you for saying it exactly this way. And for lilting alongside.
Beautiful. Inspiring. Thank you. Will be tucking a note to myself in the fridge shortly. Bless you xoxoox
Susan, you are so welcome. May the note greet you today at all the right moments. As your comment greets (and meets) me this morning. What a blessing you are.
Today, for us, is a fasting and praying day for the Ukraine. The tangerine will have to wait,
and still… It feels difficult to savor a sublime tangerine without guilt.
And yet…must gratitude be ignored when heartache looms large?
The peelings can serve as prayer covering, and the ‘amen’ a reminder to taste and see that the Lord is still good.
I am glad to see the Photo Ark made the blog, dear Laurie, where whimsy meets perfect on every page!
Dear Judy, I’m fasting and praying, too, grateful to be joining so many others in the community here today (tangerine tomorrow).
I could be wrong, but it seems to me gratitude stubbornly salutes God’s sovereign care — no matter how crushingly dire world events appear to these earthbound eyes.
I do love the image of rind as covering and the “amen” a gentle redirecting? re-shoring? of faith via taste and gaze . . .
The Ark book bowls me over! I treasure it for revealing the creatures as well as Creator and recently pored over every page with one grandson in one sitting. Thank you again!
Our church has offered a Lenten guide for us to use that includes suggestions for fasting, prayers, and passages of scripture to read (on the left-side page) and reflect upon (blank lines for writing on the right-side page). I look forward to the lilt of seeking deeper intimacy with God my Savior even as I contemplate his sorrow and pain to save me.
Nancy, that sounds like a rich resource full of possibility!
Must add: (My former calligrapher/handmade book-crafter-self wants to chime in here with two words I never get to use in conversation: “verso” and “recto,” to acknowledge the left and right page, respectively. Of such richness the page spread is made.)
How thoughtful of the designers to provide blank lines as well.
I am so taken by this: “the lilt of seeking deeper intimacy with God . . .” Thank you!
Wow..loved the Mourning Dove sounds that I used to hear in the mornings at a previous address. They have a sweetness and calmness about them, and they transmit those feelings to me…which I need…daily
Dear Sue, the mourning dove call is my favorite —— a plaint, yet serenely peaceful. I am so grateful to know you found moments of peace here today. Thank you for letting me know!
For me it would be going out in public without my hat, allowing all the world and God to see me as I really am (with chemo hair barely coming in).
The giving up of one of the ways I cover perceived lack—and there it is—the surprise of finding not ugliness but freedom I had no idea was there. Is that lilt? I think it is.
Dear Susan, I picture you enacting such trusting boldness and my eyes close on a long exhale. That sheer vulnerability and the unexpected taste of freedom. Lilt? Yes!
Here’s another definition: “a light or resilient manner of moving or walking.” Resilience adds still another dimension, holds hands somehow with lilt . . .