At the Ash Wednesday service I went to last week, the music minister sang a very simple and compelling version of Psalm 51... the Psalm traditionally used on this day. 

As this verse rang out, what was formerly familiar suddenly became alive with necessity:

"Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me."

I knew then that part of my Lenten "practice" needed to revolve around these words, and the mornings when I actually do the practice, I write these words down at the top of a page, and just wait. I want to see what stirs, especially around "clean heart" and "renew" and "right spirit."

I let the words go deep. What parts of my life need their examination? Where do I need to help? To change? To admit hurt? 

This is a waiting prayer. A prayer that asks for revelation. A time without agenda... except the emergent-over-40-days agenda of this Psalm. As one who loves quotes, and swims in an abundance of them, there is something powerful, and different, about sitting with the same potent line for all of Lent. 

I pass this on to all of you who are amidst your own Lenten practices. And I want to join this line from Psalm 51 to another "line"... one spoken spontaneously during a worship service at a retreat I attended in California. A dear friend, Marv Hiles, was conducting a Eucharist. In the midst of a prayer he suddenly said:

"Believe the testimony of your best hours.... That's you."

For many of us there, the words landed with a special force and grace. They speak to something that grounds us, that is foundational: our "best hours"--however that manifests for you.

I believe Lent calls us to this balancing act, this dual awareness of our "best hours" and of the ways our hearts need cleansing and our spirits need renewing. What to prayerfully work on and change; what to retrieve and celebrate as being our unique gifts of the spirit. 

May the deepening invitation and mystery of Lent cleanse, renew and remind you.