A Lenten Devotion: 40 Crosses for 40 Days

Sarah Pedrozo describes a new practice she is doing for the 40 days of Lent.

The idea started rumbling around in my brain about two days before Ash Wednesday. I ignored it initially, in keeping with my typical response to such ideas, pushing it off until I had time to do some research, weigh all the options and make a good choice based on all the available information. That was my original intention. Except, of course, the blocks of time I am waiting for never actually appear, new tasks arrive, time passes, and then I forget the original idea in the first place. Does that sound familiar?

The idea was simple. In addition to giving up some things for Lent, I would also add one new practice, and that one new thing would be to write a short reflection every day during the 40 days of Lent (skipping Sundays, which are not technically counted as part of the 40 days). Each reflection would simply be a meditation on a different cross. If the Lenten season is a journey to the cross of Good Friday, so that we can die and rise again with Christ, then perhaps other crosses could serve as inspiration, illuminating more of the one great cross. Each reflection would consist of a picture, a reflection, and a prayer.

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Something about this Lent has been a little different. Instead of arriving at it already exhausted, I felt in pretty good shape. Maybe that’s why instead of pushing this simple idea off into oblivion, I thought instead, “Well, what if I do it? What if I just try it? What if I just show up and see what happens?”

So, that’s what I’ve been doing. I called my collection “40 Crosses for 40 Days” and as of today, fifteen days into Lent, I’ve managed to write 15 different reflections. I’m not quite halfway yet. As I’ve journeyed along, I’ve discovered that I don’t need to plan out all of Lent, or even a whole week. Instead, I let myself be guided by the Holy Spirit, who nudges me about two days at a time. I know what I’m going to write about today and tomorrow. What happens after that is a mystery, but so far, a new idea and another inspiration has popped up to take its place.

During these fifteen days, I’ve considered several different forms of crosses, like the cross of ashes we receive on Ash Wednesday and the Clinging Cross, that is designed to fit snugly into one’s hand. One cross in particular deserved attention. It was handmade by an unhoused woman I met one morning as I was driving into work. She was standing on the corner with a sign in one hand and a cross in the other. The sign read “Crosses. $20 each” As I wrote about her cross, I thought about the larger cross of homelessness, carried by so many.

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I remembered another cross when I was at Mass one day and the Gospel reading was from Matthew 6:7-15, when Jesus teaches his disciples how to pray the Our Father. Hanging on the wall at work is a cross made of wooden slats. Each of the slats has a line of the Our Father written on it. This cross gave me the opportunity to think more deeply about each of the words we pray when we say the Our Father.

On the first Friday of Lent, I wrote about a cross from Vietnam that had been made from strips of magazine and newspaper. This cross inspired me to pray for all those who fast every day, at every meal, for all those who fast not due to discipline but from necessity. I could also reflect on the creativity and resourcefulness of the artisan who crafted it, as well as all the people along the way who helped to sell that cross. It was a testimony to what we could do if we all worked together.

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Maybe God is asking you to do something new, to grow a little, or maybe He’s asking you to offer up all the struggles you are already carrying. #CatholicMom

This has been my inspiration this Lent, but I would wager that the Holy Spirit whispers something similar to most of us, something tailored to our own gifts and our own circumstances. I don’t believe God gives us tasks that are too heavy or that will overwhelm the responsibilities that we already have, but I also know that God likes to stretch us, to take us a bit further than where we would normally go.

Maybe God is asking you to do something new, to grow a little, or maybe He’s asking you to offer up all the struggles you are already carrying, to simply abide. But whatever your journey looks like this Lent 2024, I hope that after journeying to the cross of Christ on Good Friday, you will experience the joy of the empty tomb and the happiness of Easter Sunday.

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