Spring Cleaning for the Heart

Ash Wednesday is a solemn day when we are reminded that one day we will die. We are told that we are mortal, and that our lives rest in the hands of our Creator. Today marks the beginning of Lent, a long season of self-reflection and of journeying with Jesus through the wilderness. It is a time to consider how we are with God—to notice the shape of our inner life, the habits that form us, and the quiet currents that draw our hearts. Lent is a season for examining the soul.

Now the word ‘repentance’ probably isn’t one we are very fond of. It implies that we have things to repent of, that we are sinful people who mess up and do wrong. Of course we’d rather pretend that wasn’t the case. But it is good and healthy to acknowledge our shortcomings, both to God and to ourselves. To be replenished and renewed, we need to be honest about where we are depleted, and where the places are that need attention or nourishing.

And as we know, ‘repent’ means to turn. It means to observe, acknowledge, and relinquish that which goes against fullness of life, for ourselves or for others. When we approach it in this way, repentance is a life-giving act. It allows us to focus once again on the One who gives us life. Lent, as a time of penitence and solemn reflection, gives us space to notice what has been shaping our hearts. Jesus tells us something both simple and unsettling: “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” What we treasure shapes who we are becoming. The things we value most, the rhythms we protect, the desires we return to again and again—these are our treasure. The question is whether this is life-giving treasure, or if it might be costume jewellery that would be better given up.

The prophet Joel speaks with inescapable clarity: “Return to me with all your heart.” Not halfway. Not outwardly. Not for appearance’s sake. But with the heart, because that is where our true life is lived. And along the same lines, Jesus draws a sharp distinction between what is displayed on the outside and what is formed on the inside. Prayer, fasting, and generosity matter deeply—but the spirit in which we practice them matters even more.

So it is good to be reminded to pay attention to our souls. And although Lent carries a certain seriousness, it is also a season of growth. It is like spring cleaning for the heart—clearing away what clutters, what distracts, what leaves us empty. Even Jesus himself withdrew into the wilderness. He made space for silence, for prayer, for communion with the Father. If he needed that re-centering, goodness knows we need it far more! Paul echoes that urgency in his letter to the Corinthians: “We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.” And then he presses it home: “Now is the acceptable time; now is the day of salvation.” Not someday. Not when life feels calmer. Now. Lent is an invitation to receive grace fully, to allow God to do in us what we cannot do ourselves.

So on this day, we are marked with ash. Dust traced in the shape of a cross upon our foreheads. “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.” It is a stark reminder of our mortality. The outward life—with all its striving and busyness—will not last forever. But the life hidden with God, the inward life shaped by grace, is our true treasure. That is what endures.

So as we receive the cross of ash, let us allow this season to do its quiet work in us. Let us turn, steadily and sincerely, toward the One who calls us back. Let us make a little more space for God. As we enter the season of Lent once again, may we do so willingly and attentively, repenting toward the God who gives us life. Amen.