Perfect Practice (A poem about Lent) Practicing lent sounds slick. My gift, heart-full-of-pride. My rituals, my restriction, my sacrifice. Then I throw out my arms, open-handed. Looking up, giving up. Let go, let up. Incarnate, the One who comes have me. I let go, practicing lent. Ya'll, thanks for sharing.Share Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook Share on X (Opens in new window) X Print (Opens in new window) Print Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email Share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest Like Loading...