Lenten Butterfly Spiral of Hope

If you've been following me here, you may remember that I have Ann Voskamp's son's wooden Advent spiral wreath and, over the years, have come to really treasure using it in December. Advent is my favorite season in the church year, serving as a tender affirmation that even tho our culture and the world around us may forget, sometimes our life *is* spent in waiting (and sometimes there is very real groaning as we wait, too), which is certainly more what my life has looked like.

I love having the gentle, consistent reminder during Advent that as I move my tea light down one space on my wreath each day, Mary on her donkey and I are traveling together in our journey towards what is birthing in each of us. She is very good company.

All that to say that I just don't resonate with using my spiral wreath with the extension and the wooden Christ carrying his cross at Lent. So I don't . . .

This year I've been using this Praying in Color template for my Lenten practice instead.  In a group discussion recently, one member shared that she once spent a month creating a butterfly a day.  I was so taken with her idea that I've decided to fill my Lenten spiral up with butterflies. Hope was my word for last year and I see this as a lovely, intentional way to deepen "Her" presence in my life.

When taking these photos this morning, I plopped my "calendar" down here on the table next to my chair, exactly where I keep my wooden spiral during Advent.  On a whim, I thought wouldn't it be lovely to put my little cut-glass tea-light candle holder in the middle of the spiral so I did.

It wasn't until after I'd taken the photos that I realized, in that small act, I was reclaiming a practice that has meant so much to me in Advent.  Indeed, I had found a much more meaningful way to be with it in Lent. 

*And* have I mentioned that I love, love, *love* the idea of marking each day with a butterfly? :)

Because it's fun to watch it grow, plus it helps to keep me on track, I'm thinking I'll be posting a picture of my spiral every Sunday.

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