It’s Lenten season on the Christian calendar: a time to recognize that we come from dust and to dust we’ll return. An invitation to nurture our relationship with God by discarding habits that trip us up, or committing to practices that move us Godward.
I come to Lent 2026 bunged up. Due to a freak accident, I am laid up following surgery for traumatic breaks to my left leg. Classes canceled. The walks and exercises that kept me healthy in body and mind temporarily (I hope) halted. I did not get a choice in this.
As A Spacious Place enters our twentieth year of service, I wanted to party! Our little nonprofit has been through tough times and we have adapted each time to serve our community. Now this.
I’ve never been more aware of my body: of how all things are connected in this marvelous alchemy of systems. Now that I am mostly supine, the systems that kept me active have decided to go sluggish. It’s a misery. And my future is a mystery.
I want to get back to providing our classes. I’ve no idea what that will be, or how I will manage. I cry every day. I expect that won’t stop. At least not for a while.
It strikes me that Lent is all about embodied faith: that the practices we take on, or the habits from which we refrain, are body choices. We’re reminded that our bodies have an expiration date: “to dust you shall return.” So, what does my body bring to Lent 2026.
And what I am called to right now is toughness and tenderness: to be kind to my body and allow space for healing while also slogging through Physical Therapy Boot Camp. And, to trust that the future of A Spacious Place rests in God, not in my achy body. And that is what I offer you as I lay propped up on pillows or winded by walker laps: that you may do work that calls to you. And also, that you rest and recreate your body: give it tough and tender care. Because the embodied you is loved by God.
The message of Lent is not just that we attend to our relationship with God. It is that God cherishes that relationship so much that God yearns to draw us ever nearer. That, in time, our will and God’s are one.
And that means we love our embodied selves enough to say with Jesus, “Into your hands, I commit my spirit.”
How do you care for your body? How would you describe your relationship with the Divine (by whatever name you choose) at this moment on your journey? Share your thoughts at contact@aspaciousplace.com.
