When I started the Lent series this year, I told myself it was OK not to manage every day. It’s hard to juggle essays and sermons and reading. Adding daily blog posts into the mix… well, I didn’t think I’d manage it.
But here we are. Day 28. With posts ranging from Panda Theory to Choral Evensong.
And tonight, tired from studying Revelation and completely lacking inspiration, I nearly let myself off the hook.
But that kind of defeats the point.
Lent is a time to draw closer to God. Some people do that by giving something up, some by taking something up. I chose the latter. Partly because I think if I gave up tea or chocolate I might stop functioning, but also because this practice has changed the way I go through the day.
I find myself noticing more. Not everything I notice makes it into this blog, it’s not always appropriate. But I do notice God more. Not just in the structured moments at the beginning and end of the day, but in the middle of it all. In conversations, in music, in small, ordinary moments that might otherwise pass by unnoticed.
And so tonight, I realised that maybe this isn’t really about writing at all. Maybe it’s about showing up, when I feel inspired, and when I don’t. Showing up when I have something profound to say, and when all I have is a slightly tired “I nearly didn’t write today.”
Because faith, more often than not, is less like a dramatic revelation and more like a quiet rhythm. A daily returning. A choosing again, and again, and again, to turn our attention towards God.
But (and this is important) not out of duty.
Not because I have to write. Not because missing a day would somehow make me a “worse” Christian. That was never the point. This isn’t about earning anything. It’s not a box to tick or a streak to maintain.
It’s grace.
I write because it helps me notice. I write because it helps me reflect. I write because, somehow, in the process, I find myself a little more aware of God than I was before. And if one day I don’t write? That’s OK. God won’t be any further away. His grace won’t run out. Nothing will have been lost.
But tonight, I chose to write. Not out of pressure, but out of desire. Not out of obligation, but out of love.
There’s a verse in Galatians that says, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” (Galatians 6:9)
Tonight, this feels like one of those small moments of “not giving up.” Not because I had to. But because I wanted to keep noticing.
Maybe God isn’t asking for brilliance every day. Maybe He’s not even asking for consistency in the way we think He is. Maybe He’s simply inviting us to keep coming back.
And tonight, just quietly, that’s exactly what I did.
If you’re feeling tired, or uninspired, or like you’ve got nothing much to offer… maybe the invitation is the same for you.
Not to be impressive. Not to be profound.
Just to come back.
The Reason for my Hope Blog 