I’m finding that as I practice the Lenten disciplines, the many voices of desire within me grow quieter, until only one remains. This last desire is the deepest one and during this most stark of Church seasons, in the absence of everything that would drown it out, its voice resounds.

            I hear it when I indulge my spirit in a quiet walk out in creation, away from the cacophony unique to humans. Tree and rock, cloud and sky, flowing stream and gentle breeze all give form and voice to God’s wisdom and power, to His majesty and glory. They have always been there, why have I not noticed until now? God waits for me to discover them, to marvel at them, to delight in them. In Lent He indulges me with the first signs of Spring, inviting me to know the renewing, life-giving power of His Spirit, and to share in His passion for creation.

            Lent is when I hear the voice of my deepest desire with amazing clarity in God’s Word.  The Word speaks to me of my Savior’s gentle touch and healing power, of His suffering for my sins and of His glorious resurrection. It speaks to me of His omnipotence and His humanity, of His compassion and of His desire for me. The Word invites me to indulge in God’s mercy, as the voice that called me into being now calls me to repentance, now calls me ‘forgiven’.

            I hear the voice of my deepest desire amplified in Lenten worship as I join with generations of saints in prayer and in hymn. God indulges me: ‘Come, partake of my body, broken for you, drink of my blood, shed for you.’ This small meal of wafer and wine has immeasurable power to both satisfy and intensify my desire. It speaks to me of God’s promise and of His faithfulness, of Christ’s sacrifice and of His presence. It speaks to me of eternity, where I will hear my Savior’s voice calling me into life everlasting.

            To dwell – to indulge – in The Lord, this is my deepest desire.