The Stones of Lent

During our Ash Wednesday service this year, I asked those present to write a word on a stone representing what they wanted to see less of in themselves by the end of their Lenten journeys. I then asked those present to place their stone somewhere in the spiral of smaller stones displayed on an altar in the back of the sanctuary. 

The purpose for this is because seeing less of something in ourselves almost never happens in a single, miraculous moment...it always happens on the way. It happens on the way--on the journey--inward toward that light each of us carry. That light that makes us who we are at our core. That light--a spark of the Light--in which we all live and move and have our being. 

Our Lenten journey is nearly done, and I suspect most of us might have seen less of that certain something we wrote on our stones. Or--if you're like me--you may not have seen less just yet, but were aware of the presence of that something more. 

I wrote "anxiety" on my stone. Every week I walked by that altar and I saw the word scrolled on my stone. And every week seeing that stone reminded me to begin to notice when anxiety was present and to get curious about its presence in certain situations. What's making me anxious? What's the story I'm telling myself right now? Is it true? What is the evidence for this being true? What is the evidence against this being true? What else could be happening here? Who would I be without this story I'm telling myself?

This week, I am asking those who wrote on their stones to take them home. After this Sunday, Palm Sunday, the altar will come down as Holy Week begins. I have no illusions that my anxiety is gone or ever will be. But it IS a part of my journey. Just as whatever you wrote on your stone is a part of yours. It isn't bad or good, it just IS. What I do with it along the way is up to me. How I let it shape my journey is up to me. Just as what you do with and how you let whatever you wrote on your stone shape your journey is up to you. 

Seeing "less" of something in ourselves may not actually be the goal...it may just be where we started on the long path of integration. I can tell you that I am not the same person who entered the spiral of Lent nearly 40 days ago--as I'm sure you aren't either. My awareness of anxious moments is greater. My heart is a little more soft. On the journey toward less, I think I've found more.

So, this Sunday, before we wave the palms and shout Hosanna, take a moment to stop at our stone altar one more time. Retrieve what you placed there on Ash Wednesday, and then keep moving. The stones were never meant to weigh us down to the point of stagnation. The spiral draws us in, then pushes us out. Over and over and over again, until the day our lights in this life go out, and to dust we shall return.

I'm placing my stone somewhere I can see it--daily--to continue my journey of integration. I pray you'll join me in continuing to move forward in faith.
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Pr. Melissa

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