Friends,

Last Wednesday I flew to Northwest Arkansas to visit my sister, and I got back on Monday. This trip came about when we found out that my brother was going through an unexpected and unfortunate transition in his life. He knew that he was to be in limbo this past weekend, so he reached out to my sister and I saying he needed a trip as a distraction. I do not think my brother has ever asked me for anything, so this came as a shock. He knows that I am there for him and we are all very close, he is just the sort of person who is content sleeping in a mud puddle (literally), and is never in want. My sister and I were more than happy to oblige, and for four full days we stayed in an airbnb in downtown Fayetteville Arkansas and ate decadently. I mean like, 15 different restaurants and a surprise pop-up tiki bar speakeasy in the basement of an art gallery that was surprisingly luxurious sort of decadent, and I didn’t even realize tiki bars could be fancy, let alone be in Northwest Arkansas.

I love eating at nice restaurants, but this was even a bit excessive for me, but it felt right. We didn’t go to places like this growing up and the three of us share a particular fondness for nice restaurants and good food. Plus, we know how to make each other laugh so very hard, which often made us the most obnoxious people at each restaurant. I regret nothing.

In recent years, the wilderness has often been used as a way of describing our Lenten journey toward Easter. After all, the wilderness plays a large role in the imagery around Lent. This coming Sunday we’ll hear Luke’s account of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness. In the same way Jesus was called to the wilderness to face temptation before he begins his ministry, we too can wander off to the metaphorical wilderness as a means of preparing for the Easter miracle. Others can find themselves in a Lenten season of their lives as they face medical crisis, interpersonal turmoil, or anything else that can shake what they once considered foundations of their identity.

For the uninitiated, this can sound like something flirting with profundity, but it generally manifests in giving up cheese for six weeks. I find the greatest inspiration for the weird, but ancient things we live into, such as Lenten disciplines, not to be in the things we design for ourselves, but in the things that may have inspired them. I do not know, but I like to believe that when Lenten disciplines began to pop up in the early Church, the faithful were looking around at what worked for them when they found themselves in the metaphorical or literal wilderness and started to turn them into spiritual practices. What happens when you find something that feels so much like Lent, but looks so much like worldly excess? For me, it felt like Northwest Arkansas.

When the brokenness of the world hit my brother, he needed a team to help him rage against despair, and my sister and I lived into that role with gusto. Sometimes, we hide from the hard things in our lives so thoroughly, that taking the time to come to terms with our mortality and fear can be a good lenten practice. In our case, we felt called to give our beloved brother a respite from the prolonged season of Lent he has been living in. Whether this was right or wrong, all of that excess made me eager to start my more austere practices this Ash Wednesday. For the first time, I realize that having the space to give something up is a privilege, one for which I am thankful.

Blessings,

Nick