
I again had difficulty choosing a Lenten practice this year. This has been happening more often than not lately.
Originally, I had the idea to wake up a little earlier each morning to observe a quiet prayer time. True to my intention, I set my alarm for Ash Wednesday morning, ready to get started. When the alarm actually sounded, I turned it off and rolled over. And that was the end of that.
Then I thought I could recover by observing a prayer time later each day instead. So far, that hasn’t happened either.
But then about two weeks in to the season, I finally hit on something. It happened as I decided to walk down to the little produce market at the edge of our neighborhood. I usually stop there on my drive home from an appointment, but I felt like a walk would do me good this time. And it did.
I’ve frequently enjoyed walks around my neighborhood. I like the weather, noticing my surroundings. Sometimes I listen to music or a podcast. On this day I instead listened to the birds. It was exactly what I needed.
When I returned home, I realized I’d found my practice for Lent.
In my book Prayer in Motion, I devote an entire chapter to the spiritual possibilities of walking. I share wisdom from the practice of walking the labyrinth and invite readers to apply these lessons to walks in other places:
First, there is the energy used to walk. Recall that in my labyrinth story, I needed to burn nervous energy and was not going to benefit from trying to use a devotional book while sitting still. Have you or someone you know ever said, “I need to get out of here and walk for a while?” The labyrinth is a perfect activity for moments like that.
Second, like most other spiritual practices, repeated and regular use of the labyrinth helps condition people to receive what it offers. Observing a prayer practice just once or in an intermittent way will not be enough to cultivate the openness to God’s presence that it is meant to provide.
Finally, over time, the openness that walking a labyrinth helps create will help us notice the small things that may be key to the concerns or wonders that we’ve brought to our time of prayer. We’ll be able to notice the little[…]sort of messages that God may be sharing with us. We’ll be able to quiet the noise inside us and discern God’s voice underneath it.
This is what I’ve re-discovered in my walks this past week: simple exercise, repetition, and cultivating greater openness to God through attention to my surroundings. A Lenten discipline doesn’t need more than that.
I’m glad I’ve found my practice, and for what it’s already teaching me.