While Advent is a season of anticipation and hushed excitement, Lent feels heavier, more thoughtful. Through Advent, we wait longingly on His birth; through Lent, we anticipate the weight of the Cross.

I love Advent. Its gentle sparkle and shine, a quietness barely containing the excitement of the coming Birth. I struggle with Lent. I feel the weight of my sin deeply. The sin that sent our Savior to the Tree. The sin that led him to Calvary, a willing sacrifice in love. I struggle with Lent because I struggle with sin. It’s easy to get caught up in the day to day and forget the cost of our sin. It’s easy to let some sins slide or relax in repentance. But Lent doesn’t let you do that. Lent calls us to deeper reflection and deeper reminders of our need of the Cross, our need of grace upon grace, our need of a Savior who tore the veil between us and His Father. Lent reminds us that the cost of our sin is death, death on the cross by a Savior who loves us deeply and willingly said yes to this plan of radical redemption. Lent reminds us that our sins are not to be taken lightly and not to be swept under the rug with a dismissive #hotmess hashtag. Lent reminds us of our desperate need and His never-ending grace.

But, underneath this heaviness, this deep sorrow for the cost of our sins, there should be joy bubbling up within us. Joy, that because of the Cross, we can run to our Father like the prodigal son, ashamed and repentant of what we’ve done and where we’ve been, and be scooped up in His rejoicing arms. Joy, that because of the Cross, we are not our past choices-the things that we’ve done, the people we’ve hurt, the words we’ve spoken, the choices we regret- but that we are forgiven for these as far as the East is from the West. Joy, that because of the Cross, our scars become His scars and the very things He uses to redeem our stories. Joy, that because of the Cross, we are FREE from the weight of our sin because Jesus is carrying it. Joy, that because of the Cross, we are His. Broken, imperfect, messy, loved, redeemed, forgiven. His. And this is where we find the deep well of joy through this heavy Lent. In the love of the Savior that knows every unmentionable, shame-filled sin and still holds out His arms with joy at our return, and still held out His arms on the Cross, and still holds our hearts back together.

Brave, cherished boy,

I’m always a mess after your doctor appointments but they don’t faze you at all, which isn’t a surprise. Not much fazes you and I love that about you. As we meet new doctor after doctor, they all tell us the same thing: they’ve never seen a heart like yours. And while they literally mean your heart is unique, I can’t help but agree with them. Because I know your real heart, and it is so special and unique. You have faced so much in your 3 years of life, and much of it without your family by your side. And I would totally understand if you were scared, suspicious, timid, and shut down. But you aren’t. You are bold, confident, reckless, and bursting with love. The more we know you, the more we marvel at you. And so does every new person you meet. You charm every nurse and doctor with your sweet, helpful heart; you charm every teacher with your quick laugh and joyful smile; you charm your whole family with your fiery loyalty and arms-wide-open love. And I rest in the fact that you will face any challenge head on, with a mischievous smile and deep trust in those around you. Because I’m sure you’ll face challenges throughout your life, and I’m sure there are many tough roads we will have to blaze together.

And this is what I want you to know: don’t lose your reckless brave. Don’t lose your open-ended joy. Don’t lose your ability to love without holding back. Don’t lose your ability to walk into any room and make people feel a little glimmer of hope and sunshine. Because that’s what you do. You walked into our lives and gave us your heart, that crazy heart that’s like no other, and you showed us what hope looks like in any circumstance. You showed us what it looks like to meet any situation head on, with a big smile and a joke in your eyes. You showed us what it means to choose to trust the people in your life. And I’m so thankful for the things you’ve shown us. Because I know that as we walk this path together, I’ll need a lot of brave, a lot of trust, a lot of love, and I’ll definitely need a lot of laughs. And I know that I’ll have them.

Thank you, little wild man, for sharing your brave, special heart with us. I love how God made you, and I love that He literally gave you a unique heart that matches how special you are. We are so thankful we get to love you and fight for your heart.