By Katie Rea — spiritual director, writer, and companion for those listening deeply to life as it is.

I missed our Ash Wednesday service. Both of them.

I had started my day, made my bed, went downstairs for coffee and breakfast. Then I started my computer and got to work. Yet, around 10 am, I felt a nasty headache coming, so I took some meds and went to lie down in the dark for an hour. My headaches can turn into migraines if I’m not careful, so I tend to be cautious when a headache comes on strongly like that.

I woke up around 12. The first service started at noon.

Later, still not feeling 100 percent, I picked up my daughter from school. We ran some errands, ate some dinner, and I went back to bed again. And I missed the 6 pm service. On one hand, I felt like it was okay. No big deal. On the other hand, I felt shame.

I struggle during the Lenten season. If there is a way to do the Lenten season in shame, I’d get a gold medal.

Shame says:

You are not enough.

You need to fix yourself.

God will love you more if you try harder.

This is a season when, if I’m not careful, my perfectionism creates a chasm between shame and love. I’m wrapped in a cloud of shame while love is on a distant shore.

The Lenten season’s focus does not have to be about perfectionism or self-improvement. I have to remind myself that Lent can be an invitation. An invitation to slow down and pay attention. There’s a difference between shame-driven repentance and love-driven return.

Love says:

You are already held.

Come closer to the divine.

Let’s loosen what is constricting you.

Repentance, at its root, means to turn around.
Not to punish. Not to prove. Not perfection.

Simply to turn.

Towards the divine.

Ash Wednesday does not mark us as failures.
It marks us as finite and infinitely loved.

I wrote this as a reminder for myself as much as for others.

Try not to let shame ensnare you this Lenten season. Jesus doesn’t stay in the wilderness forever. Eventually, the angels come and take care of him.

Dedicate this season of Lent to the love God has for us. Even while we walk the vast wilderness.

A Gentle Practice for this week

Set aside five minutes each day. (Yet, don’t be legalistic.)

Sit comfortably.
Place your feet on the ground.
Take three slow breaths.

Then simply ask:

What am I clinging to that keeps me from freedom?

Do not rush to answer.
Let the question rest in you.

Feel free to journal or draw, if needed.

Notice what arises:

• A habit?
• A fear?
• An identity you feel pressured to maintain.
• A need to be right, productive, admired, secure?

There is no need to fix it immediately.

Lent is not about dramatic gestures.
It is about honest seeing.

When you notice what you cling to, gently offer it to God:

Here it is. I’m afraid to release it. Stay with me as I loosen my grip.

A newsletter by Katie Rea.

www.katierea.com