Spring is springing! The dark, damp days of winter are finally fading away. Those flowering bulbs have survived being buried in the cold, hidden depths of the earth. The promise of their glory to come is starting to unfold before our eyes.

For Christians, we have begun our journey into the dark days of Lent- where we remember the forty days of fasting in the wilderness that Jesus endured. We emerge at the other end to celebrate the chocolate frenzy of Easter - but not before experiencing being in the dark places of our souls in the desert of these six weeks.

The self-reflection and self-denial of Lent goes very much against the culture of the day.

How do we stop in the middle of the scroll, the rush, the ticking of the clock? Why do we need to put a halt to life, when it moves so fast? Isn’t there a shortcut or a way out of the pondering, the stillness we are invited to observe for ourselves?

For myself, I find great value in stopping, in being still, in prioritising a moment of quietness before the madness of the day can take a hold of me and my time.

I find that the moment to stop – before the day starts- helps to ground me and still the noises that can overwhelm me, helping me to face the tasks that pile up.

Lent is a way to stop. To be still and to just ‘Be’. It can be a way to ground yourself, to remember that Jesus needed those weeks alone in the wilderness, without food, without anything familiar or comforting, in order to emerge; grounded in himself, ready to face serious challenges to his identity and his calling.

When we emerge from the desert experience of lent, we hope for ourselves, that we too are more able to face the challenges of this world. And just like those spring bulbs that have been hidden in the dark, we pray that we too may be able to unfurl our wings and turn our faces towards the light of the ‘Sun of Righteousness’. (Malachi 4:2) Our strength, our vision, our sense of purpose can be renewed and re-energised by our self-denial during lent.

The challenge to you, the challenge to me is to be able to stop and be still for a moment. Jesus challenged his friends in this way on the night before he died, when he had a moment of agony in the garden. He said: “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” (Matthew 26: 38)

And so, I ask you as well: Will you stay still and keep watch with me? - You may just find strength in the silence.

Jesus is waiting for you in the stillness: whenever you are ready to find him, he is still there for you.