With Holy Week ready to make Lent’s final assault, I’ve cleared my calendar from all distractions and am now ready to make my charge. Sermons have been written. Services have been crafted. People are being organized. Palms are green with anticipation. Lilies lie in wait. Flags are ready to fly. Allelu**s are ready to be sung.
While everything waits in the ready, Lent has exacted its cost: my time is not mine. I belong not to me. It has taken nearly six weeks of sermonizing and studying the Word ad nauseam, but I get it (again). It’s not about me. I will die with Christ on Good Friday in joyful anticipation of the resurrection.
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