“We are Easter people – anchored in the truth that love is stronger than death.”
The passage this morning quotes Pope St. John Paul II, Easter Vigil Homily, 1986 –
“Christ is risen and with Him comes hope, joy and a future full of life and promise”
I can’t seem to find the words to truly express my feelings today.
Mass this morning was beautiful. It was full of light and hope and was filled to the walls with a worshiping and joyful congregation.
There was laughter and a sense of community.
It was joyful and I left with a feeling of peace and gratitude.
Yet, as I write this I also feel quiet inside.
I feel humbled…
I feel peaceful…
I feel blessed…
And I feel God’s love.
I wish you and your family a beautiful Easter Sunday. May God’s love fill your hearts and inspire you to “live in the light of the risen Christ”.
Alleluia! Risen Lord, we celebrate Your victory over darkness today. Thank You for the gift of new life and the joy that never ends. Fill our hearts with Your light and let our lives reflect Your glorious hope. Amen!
”Good Friday is the still point of history – when love and suffering meet on the Cross.”
So what are your plans for today?
As a child, I remember my mom going to Adoration on Holy Thursday and we were part of the living stations of the cross on Good Friday.
Sadly, in my adult life, Holy Thursday and Good Friday were sometimes glossed over.
They were days we used to run around and prepare for Easter Sunday.
But this year, I think because of this writing project, I’m humbled.
The three day mystery of the Triduum is at the forefront of my reflection.
I deeply appreciate and acknowledge that we only celebrate Holy Saturday and Easter Sunday because of Holy Thursday and Good Friday.
It’s a time when love and suffering…two words that we typically wouldn’t use together become our focus.
Today, we Honor those words. We remember His love and His suffering…for us.
So…I’m overwhelmed…I’m in awe…I’m humbled…I’m filled with gratitude…
And, I’m also sorrowful…
The thought of the agony Christ endured for us is really too much to comprehend.
The violence, the anger, the torture, the humiliation, the ultimate sacrifice.
I don’t have words powerful enough to describe my reflection of the events of this day.
What He endured for me…and for you.
For each and every one of us.
I pray we take some time today to reflect. To remember and to Honor.
To take up our own cross and respond with total love.
The passage today says “the mystery of Good Friday is not one of despair, but of love willing to descend into death for the sake of our redemption”.
So today, let’s kneel before the crucified Christ and feel…
really feel, the outpouring of His love.
“We are invited to stay close, to weep, to wonder and to let ourselves be transformed.”
“Crucified Lord, pierce my heart with your love, that I may never grow numb to Your mercy. Amen.”
PS – I saw a beautiful prayer on social media today that I’d like to share with you:
Today, do not forget to say these words to Jesus:
Dear Lord, on this Good Friday, I thank You for carrying the cross that I could not bear. By Your stripes, I am healed. By Your love, I am forgiven. By Your sacrifice, I am redeemed. By Your grace, I am saved. By Your victory, I no longer fear death. By Your resurrection, I can face tomorrow. By Your Word, I find the way. By Your promise, my heart is filled with hope. May all glory be to You – my Savior, my King! Amen.
“Today we are invited to partake – not as spectators but as beloved friends.”
We reflect on the night Jesus was betrayed and the gift he gave us. The most precious gift…his living body and blood poured out in love.
Sometimes we forget that through the Eucharist He becomes one with us. He nourishes our souls in ways that nothing else can.
It’s a time to remember his sacrifice and marvel at his love.
I grew up attending mass weekly. Without fail. My mom was the cantor at 10:30 mass each week and even if we had friends sleep over on Saturday nights, come Sunday morning…we all got up and went to mass.
No questions, no excuses. We all went to church.
I went through a period of many years in my life when attending mass was on the back burner.
We were raising a young family. Days and weekends seemed to blur together as we juggled travel sports, activities, and a thousand other responsibilities that consumed our time.
I look back on those days now and I wonder how we managed it all.
And what I now realize is…we didn’t do it alone.
Admittedly, time spent in church was scarce and felt pretty much impossible…
And I carried guilt for a long time that I didn’t manage to instill that same dedication of faith I was raised with into my own young family.
Don’t get me wrong, I prayed regularly, my kids went to CCD and received all of their sacraments and I always taught them to act with kindness and love, but faith was more in the background of our lives rather than front and center.
And yet, somehow, someway, day in and day out, we managed to get everyone exactly where they needed to be, doing exactly what they needed to do.
So I think that was God.
God was with still with me, holding my life together, walking along side me and patiently waiting for me to return.
To Return!
I just had a lightbulb moment as I typed those words…
…waiting for me to Return.
This Lenten season, on Hallow Pray 40, the theme was ‘The Return’.
If you read my Introduction post at the beginning of this Lenten project, you know I prayed for God to lead me. To help me find the words to write about His presence in my life this Lent…and just now, he once again proved was listening.
I have not, even once, used the word Return throughout this blog series.
Yet, here I am, in the early morning hours of Holy Thursday seeing that word spill out onto my screen.
That…is…God.
I have no doubt He sent me that word.
He’s with me now and He’s been with me all along.
Over the past few years, attending weekly mass has been a constant. It’s become the focus of my week and receiving the Eucharist is now what helps ground me.
So what I’ve learned from these writings, is that even though Lent is coming to a close, my journey, my Return to God, and my faith is just beginning.
Dear Jesus, quiet my heart and teach me to love with humility and grace. Help me remember Your sacrifice and trust Your love more deeply today. Amen.
What is happening in our world today? We seem more scattered than ever and today’s passage speaks directly to that fact.
I’ll be honest, I truly believed that COVID would be a turning point. I felt as though God put the world in a giant ‘time-out’.
I can almost hear Him speaking the same way we would speak to our own kids…”Well…since you can’t seem to get along, I’m going to separate you all for a while so you can think about it”.
The separation followed.
The isolation followed.
The detachment from friends and family was painful and sad.
We began to fear contact. We feared each other.
Shaking hands and giving hugs was pretty much forbidden.
A simple “How are you?” became a loaded question and even eye contact was avoided.
We craved socialization and clung to the hope of returning to ‘normal’.
Yet…here we are, more divided than ever. How quickly we’ve forgotten how much we needed each other during those times.
In truth, I really believed when it was over, we would be better. We’d be more patient with each other, more accepting, and would offer a bit more kindness recalling how difficult it was to be apart.
But, it seems as though the opposite occurred.
Rather than celebrating a return to humanity and interaction, and appreciating the chance to socialize and be together again, the world seems to have been turned on it’s head.
We’ve become angry, hateful, and more divided than ever. We’re less patient, less tolerant, and less willing to lend a hand.
And it’s heartbreaking.
So, I’ll ask again…How did we get here?
How do we think God feels about all of this?
We, his children are behaving…well…like children.
And I think our behavior breaks his loving heart over and over again.
So how can we heal? What will it take for us to own up to our part in this mess? When will be begin to extend some mercy and forgiveness?
Today’s passage says to ask Christ to gather our hearts and to make us agents of unity in a world that’s been pulled apart.
It reminds us that “Christ is the end of all separation – separation between God and man, and separation between each other”.
Can we look at our lives this Lent and acknowledge where we are scattered?
Are we willing?
I pray for the strength to follow God’s lead and to lean on Him for guidance and peace and an “end of all separation.”
Will you join me?
Jesus, gather my scattered heart. Make me one with You and make me an instrument of Your peace. Amen.
“Lent invites us to shift focus from the visible to the eternal.”
Do you believe?
I’ve been asked on occasion if I really, truly believe in heaven.
Without hesitation, time and time again…
I reply Yes!
I believe. I believe whole heartedly that there’s ‘more’ than what we see and have here.
Yet, sometimes in those moments of confrontation, despite my faith, the words to offer reassurance evade me.
I mean, how can anyone really, explain the depth of their belief?
So, I try to give examples. I try to recall signs from my life to prove God is real.
I share moments of experiences that cannot be explained by anything other than faith in God.
I believe. I just do. I just know.
Many times I wish I was able to eloquently recite scripture. To quiet the doubt in someone’s heart.
My father passed away when I was 37. He was only 64. His passing left an ache deep in my heart that never goes away. What I wouldn’t do to hear his voice, his laugh or to hug him just one more time.
And I’ll never understand why God called him home so soon. Or why we were forced to experience the depth of such pain and grief.
My Dad was faithful, kind, loving, generous, loyal, honorable and true. He was strong and he was devoted. He loved with his whole heart. And he had a true gift of making someone feel as though they were the most important person in the world. When you spoke with him…he was present, he was listening, and he truly cared.
Anyone who knew him would tell you the same thing.
So, I refuse to believe that someone who brought that kind of love and light to this world, someone who lived with unwaivering faith and built such a beautiful life could simply cease to exist.
His time here with us was short, but he sends each of us signs that he is still with us. Signs that hold us up and hold us together.
With them, I have no doubt, that he lives on in eternity in the presence of our Heavenly Father who he loved so dearly.
I know, and I believe with all of my heart, that I will see my Dad again one day.
So…I think maybe that’s part of the reason why…
Why I believe so deeply…
Because of my Dad.
Dear Lord, thank you for the gift of my father and the love he shared with our family. I pray You strengthen our faith and deepen our trust in You as we move through our lives remembering and honoring his legacy. Amen.
This one is difficult to grasp I think because logic can stands in the way of faith.
We are taught God sent His only son, Jesus, who suffered and died for our sins, who redeems us.
Yet at the same time we are taught that Jesus is God.
I’ll be honest in saying I always struggled with understanding this.
How can he be both?
Today’s passage says “Lent isn’t just about following Jesus the teacher – it’s about bowing before Jesus the Lord.”
Truth is, I’ve always felt humbled when kneeling before the cross, gazing at His suffering.
Aching while thinking about the unimaginable pain He endured for me and you.
Wondering how any man could accept such agony for the sake of others.
Today’s passage answers…
Because I AM. Because He is God, He is Lord, And our peace is in His wounds.
He forgives with endless love and mercy.
And His love never fails.
That is not man…that can only be God.
His perfect love, His perfect sacrifice, His perfect mercy…
So, maybe even if it’s without understanding, we just believe…
Jesus is Lord. True God from True God.
Lord Jesus, I adore You in Your eternal divinity, one in Being with the Father. Thank you for taking on my humanity. You are our Lord and Savior. Amen.
This passage makes me think again about my natural inclination to want to fix everything.
Especially when it comes to my family. I want everyone happy. I want to be perfect for each of them and provide exactly what they need, exactly when they need it.
And when I can’t…I worry.
I worry about their happiness and their future. I worry if I’m doing “enough”. I worry about their challenges and their sufferings.
As a mom…it seems nearly impossible not to worry.
So what do we do when we feel helpless and feel that no matter how hard we try…
We can’t “fix it”.
The passage today says…”to look often at the crucified Christ and receive trust. Our peace is in his wounds. Trust what he endured for you.”
So today I pray for trust. I pray for the humility to trust in His plan and His protection.
Dear Lord, I place my worries at the foot of the cross, “not with answers but with trust”. Amen.
Today’s passage reminds us that Lent is a season of hidden transformation, with grace working in quiet, unseen ways.
I’ve spent a lot of time this Lent reflecting on my faith journey.
I’ve experienced moments of quiet, moments of chaos, moments of peace and moments of clarity. Some were filled with happiness and light and others with confusion and even sadness.
But through it all, I’ve grown to appreciate that each of those moments are what mold us.
Those tiny, seemingly insignificant, minutes in our day band together and become opportunities for growth. They become chances to take action, to repent, to make a change, to extend kindness, to pray.
The beauty in today’s message is the parable of the tiny mustard seed. Our small efforts prepare the soil of our heart and it’s there that God grows greatness within us.
One of my favorite quotes is from Audrey Hepburn, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow”.
Merciful Father, cultivate grace and humility within us. May our expanding faith bloom to reflect Your greatness while our hearts root deeply in Your love. Amen.
What spoke to me the most today was the prayer at the end of this passage…
“Lord, strengthen me to pray with trust, even when I see no fruit.”
Pray with trust. Blind faith. With patience.
That’s not always easy to do.
The passage today reminds us that when we find ourselves in places where we must “wait and hope, even in sorrow, our prayers matter…even when answers seem delayed.”
I think if we look back at certain times in our lives we can see that our prayers were answered.
It may not have been within our desired timeline and sometimes it wasn’t even the response we expected, but…
God was there.
And he was at work.
I’d like to share one of those times with you.
My husband and I struggled with fertility issues. I had endometriosis and a bicornuate uterus. Although it was possible to conceive, it was extremely difficult.
Month after month we prayed, and I feared I would never be a Mom.
A little background about me, I never longed for a “career”.
All I ever dreamed of, was to be a wife and a mom. I saw myself in that picture. I lived for that picture. I wanted to get married young and have 4 kids. I had it all planned out and I dreamed of a very traditional family life.
Hubby would work and I would stay-at-home to take care of the kids and help raise our family.
I prayed for it daily and I couldn’t imagine life any other way.
So, after being blessed with meeting and marrying the love of my life, my heart was full. My prayers were being answered, my dreams were within reach.
If only it had been that easy…
After a couple of years, we decided we were ready to start a family.
Great! Let’s do this!
But…apparently, God thought otherwise.
Tears, frustration, confusion and comparison followed. It seemed so easy for everyone else, but for us…nothing but disappointment and heartbreak.
During that time, testing discovered my bicornuate uterus, coupled with endometriosis. After enduring surgery and few months of healing we were able to try yet again.
And we were hopeful.
It was still several more months later but then…it happened!
Praise God!
I learned I was finally pregnant.
My prayers of “Please let it happen for us Lord”, became “Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!”
We were elated. We started planning. We were choosing the room in our home for the nursery.
Life…was…perfect.
But then, after a year and a half of trying, when I was just over 10 weeks into my pregnancy…I miscarried.
I can remember being in mass that morning and suddenly, feeling weak and lightheaded, I had to sit down. I remember the panic washing over me as I looked up at my husband and said, “something’s wrong”.
A trip to the doctor the next morning confirmed our worst fear… no more heartbeat.
To say we were shattered is an understatement.
The sadness and prayers of ‘why’ were endless.
I felt like I was suffocating.
So, I did the only thing I could do…I prayed.
I cried a lot… but I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed.
I knew my dream of having a family was completely in God’s hands.
It was another very long, very stressful, year and a half before I finally conceived again.
And my prayers this time were desperate.
I was overwhelmed with gratitude, but I was terrified.
“Please Lord, Let this baby be ok. Please be with us. Please protect our child. Please help us.”
And…all glory to God…He did.
The gift of our lives was the day our first daughter was born. The gratitude and love I felt for that tiny miracle still overwhelms me to this day.
Truth is, I’ll never understand why it was so hard for us. Each of our 3 children was difficult to conceive. And I truly believe God called our unborn angel home that morning during mass.
But despite my heartbreak and suffering, I look back at what followed, and I’m thankful.
I’m thankful for the family my husband and I were blessed to raise, and I’m thankful, through the grace of God, that our prayers were answered…not in our time, but in His.
His plan, His timing, as always…was perfect.
Each of those babies I so desperately prayed for and held in my arms are grown now.
So today, I pray God gives me the strength to continue to trust Him. To trust that He is guiding their lives and their journey so that they too will grow in their faith in Him.
From the passage today, “God hears the cries of the faithful – and he responds, in time”.
“Lord, strengthen me to continue to pray with trust, even when I see no fruit.” Amen.
“Her tears were not wasted – they became a wellspring of grace.”
The passage speaks of St. Clare of Assisi, who spent her life in prayer and simplicity, seeking the face of Jesus in silence and love.
This is what we are called to do today. To find some quiet time.
To sit and look, with longing, to see the face of God.
I’ve said throughout this journey that I believe we are exactly where God needs us to be at any given point.
And today is no different.
At the time of this writing, I’m about a week behind the actual days of Lent.
I was traveling and didn’t have the quiet space or opportunity to keep up with the passages and my writings, so I’ve been trying to catch up ever since.
Yet today, even though my readings are behind, the message is right on time.
The passage asks for us to “Sit before Christ—physically in the Eucharist, spiritually in prayer.”
I’m part of a women’s Bible study group at my church called Walking With Purpose. It’s a beautiful study and it has changed my spiritual life and relationship with God in ways I never expected and cannot fully describe in a short blog post…but here’s why I mention it…
Tonight is our Lenten Retreat which includes…time in Adoration.
Tonight, just as the passage calls us to do… I literally have the opportunity to “Sit before Christ—physically in the Eucharist, spiritually in prayer.”
Coincidence? I don’t think so.
Once again…God is working. He is with me on this Lenten journey. And he’s proving it.
Even though I was held up on these writings, I’m right where I needed to be to feel his presence.
God’s timing is always perfect.
Heavenly Father, I stand in awe of Your majesty and the beauty of Your holiness. My heart rests in the wonder of Your face. Amen.
The following sentence is the one that jumped off the page for me today,
“God won’t force healing – he invites us to participate.”
I’m a creature of habit. I get up early, have my prayer time in the mornings, and (try to) workout before my workday begins.
At the end of my workday comes errands, dinner prep and cleanup.
And, at the end of that, is when I typically plop onto the couch, scroll on my phone and/or binge watch whatever new series I’ve discovered.
It’s at those times I think, rather than doom scrolling or watching another episode, I should probably read another passage in this booklet, or write another blog post or simply seek out silence to pray more deeply before ending the day.
Choosing a holy habit would certainly be a better option and likely provide more fulfillment.
Yet…I stay on the couch.
This passage showed me that “I’ve stopped hoping to change.”
I convince myself, “I don’t have the strength, I don’t have the energy…I just can’t…”
I always manage to justify my laziness.
St. Catherine of Siena reminds us “that grace responds to our willingness”.
So…If I’m being completely honest with myself, I suppose I can make a better choice…
I’m just not willing to.
Oof…I’m going to have to sit with that realization for a while.
Because, when all is said and done…“God heals when we ask, but often we must first desire to rise, take up our mat…and walk.”
Dear Lord, fill me with the courage to acknowledge what’s broken in my daily routines and awaken my desire to make choices that lead me closer to You. Amen.
Truthfully, I’ve always considered Lent to be a time of trying to prove something.
Proving my love for God. Depriving myself of favorite foods or activities might prove my commitment, endurance and sacrifice.
Trying (many times without success) to do all the ‘holy stuff’ we are ‘supposed’ to do during Lent.
Thinking that’s what God wanted.
I can remember saying to my kids over the years, “with all that Jesus did for us, don’t you think we can manage a few Fridays without a burger?”
It was small and simplified and sometimes, it was in jest but it was my attempt at trying to show God, and my kids, that we remembered his sacrifice.
But this Lent has really changed things for me. I’m learning that while those small acts still matter in our journey to know and honor God, what He really wants is to love us and for us to let Him.
The passage says: “Lent isn’t about seeing how much we can endure – it’s about learning how deeply we are loved. And from that love, we extend mercy to others.”
God Delights in Mercy – I believe that’s what makes Him happy.
Seeing us share his love and mercy with others.
Think about it…what makes you happy?
For me, when my loved ones are happy, it makes my heart happy. When my heart is happy, I find it easier to smile at a stranger, say something kind, or extend a helping hand.
I remember being on a college visit with one of my kids and the speaker was talking to the parents about the transition from home life to college life and she said:
“As parents, we are only as happy as our saddest child.”
It literally took my breath away. Never have I heard a more powerful or accurate statement about parenting. And since then, I’ve repeated it more times than I can count.
I think that’s what this passage is trying to express.
God is our Heavenly Father
We are his beloved children.
When we are happy…He’s happy. When we feel His love, we show love.
And the ripple effect of our actions turns into mercy and understanding.
So, maybe Lent isn’t just about giving up stuff, maybe it’s about giving in to God’s will and letting Him fill us with His love.
God doesn’t want to test us…God wants our hearts…He wants the ripple effect.
Dear Lord, I hand my heart to you today. Guide my thoughts, words and actions and let MY life be a reflection of YOUR love.
“The measure of love is to love without measure.” St. Francis de Sales
We are once again being called to love and to forgive, but this time we’re reminded we can’t keep score.
Have you ever heard the phrase, “Do as I say, not as I do”?
The last line of this passage reminds me a bit of that phrase.
“Forgive not because they deserve it, but because Christ calls you to.”
Matthew 18:21-22 – Then Peter came and said to Him, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to 7 times?”Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you up to 7 times, but up to 70 times seven.”
That’s a lot of forgiveness!
Truth be told, I’m not especially proud to admit there have been times I used the phrase ‘do as I say not as I do’ with my own kids.
Sometimes it was tongue in cheek and sometimes it was likely in response to questions I wasn’t ready to, or in the mood to answer.
The difference between the phrase and what Jesus calls us to do in this passage, is that He does exactly what he’s supposed to do.
What He says and what He does…match.
He is not asking us to do something he hasn’t done himself.
To forgive without limits.
He perfectly models the behavior he wants to see in us.
I can almost hear Jesus saying, “Do as I say AND as I do”.
The question is…are we up to the task?
Heavenly Father, grant me a heart like Yours. When I feel hurt, replace my bitterness with Your limitless mercy. Help me to let go and forgive without limits, just as I have been forgiven. Amen.
“During Lent, we turn inward – but we are also sent outward.”
I’m a bit of a homebody.
I do love being out and about but more often than not…
I’m content with just being home. In my own space. The space I share with family. The space that’s familiar and comfortable.
Inward.
Lent calls us to be sent outward.
Through charity, alms giving, sharing our blessings with others.
Actively loving.
Those actions are not as familiar and comfortable. They don’t always come easy.
We visited this in an earlier passage, on the second Sunday of Lent – Transfigured by Love.
Today, we are again challenged to love.
The passage says:
“He who has been forgiven much, must love much.” St. Augustine, Homilies on the Gospel of John
That’s a big responsibility.
I had to read that line a couple of times: He who has been forgiven much, must love much.
So let’s think about it for a moment.
Sometimes we make the same mistakes and commit the same sins over and over again. Yet, when we ask, God forgives those sins…over and over again.
But do we willingly extend that same mercy to those we know and love?
Today’s passage calls us to do just that…
To “see others with compassion, not judgment. To live differently, generously, mercifully.”
I don’t know about you but if I’ve been hurt repeatedly, my heart hardens just a bit. I tend to create a protective shell so to speak. And, if I’m being honest, I think it happens without my even realizing it.
Note to Self…
So what about you?
Does someone or something come to mind when you think about the experiences of your own life?
Can we soften our hearts and forgive the way God repeatedly forgives?
Can we grow as merciful servants and offer kindness to those we encounter this Lent?
“The love we show our neighbor is the clearest sign that God’s mercy is alive in us.”
Are we willing to let God’s mercy shine?
Lord, grant me a heart that is open and gentle, not one that’s hardened by pride, and help me to reflect Your compassion in how I treat others today. Amen.
I think I’ve heard the story of Jesus meeting the Samaritan woman at the well more times than I can count, but this time, in today’s passage, the reference to it struck me differently.
The last line…
“Let us come to the well — not hiding our sin or shame, but ready to receive the water that leads to eternal life.”
The words today made me think of Reconciliation which made me think of Confession.
It’s, I think, the hardest Sacrament to seek.
Why is it so very hard to go to confession?
I think the words alone conjure up two different experiences.
Confession vs. Reconciliation
Confession – that’s a rather scary word.
It makes us feel small.
It reminds us that we’re sinners and we’re weak.
It shines a light on our failings.
Humbling ourselves feels uncomfortable.
Speaking our faults and sins out loud for someone else to hear brings them to life. And I don’t know about you, but that gives me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I think this is when our pride is at work.
When the enemy is at work to keep us from God.
Pride gets in the way and helps us easily find excuses to avoid that feeling in the pit of our stomachs’.
Our pride creates the fear of judgment. Fear of admitting our weaknesses. Fear of embarrassment. Fear of acknowledging we are prideful.
Maybe because pride is a sin, in and of itself.
Swallowing that pride and bringing it to God is no easy task…
“I confess to almighty God that I have sinned through my own fault.”
So…we try to avoid ‘Confession’.
But…
Reconciliation – now that brings a different image altogether.
That word is not so scary.
It’s more peaceful.
Reconciling with God, reconciling with ourselves, reconciling with friends or family members.
Humbling ourselves feels different here.
By definition, reconciliation means restoring friendly relations, the resolution of a conflict.
That’s an invitation. From God. He thirsts for us.
He gives us the Sacrament of Reconciliation so we always have a way to restore our relationship with Him.
It’s funny…each year during Lent I feel called to go to confession.
To start fresh with God.
Yet, year after year, my hesitation creeps in. My fear bubbles up, I feel like I’m holding my breath and I begin to feel nervous – confession is looming.
Yet…each year I feel enlightened afterwards.
What was I worried about?
Nothing feels better than receiving forgiveness.
Exhale…
I feel closer to God and I feel gratitude for my life and my blessings.
And each year I ask myself…why is this so hard when I know I will feel so much better?
This year…this Lent…I’m going to try to change my perspective.
I’m not going to go to Confession…I’m going to seek Reconciliation.
Like with the Samaritan woman, “Christ stands beside the wells of our lives, asking us to be honest, to open our hearts, and to receive living water. Christ is the wellspring that never runs dry.”
Wash me clean, Lord, and guide me back to your path. That I may reconcile with you and walk in your love and peace. Amen.
There’s nothing that quite feels like arriving home.
What I’ve come to learn is…
God…is…Home.
Maybe you already know this.
Maybe you have a strong foundation and faith relationship with God.
But maybe you’ve wandered off.
And maybe you’re wondering how to find your way back.
I love the words in today’s passage…
“God delights more in our return than he dwells on our wandering.”
As a mom, I can relate to that. Nothing makes me feel more fulfilled than when my adult children are home. Full rooms, conversations, meals together. There’s nothing quite like it.
Now, don’t get me wrong, my home is far from a Rockwell painting.
Sometimes moods clash and opinions fly, but even then…amongst the chaos, being home and having them home brings a feeling of contentment like no other.
And, no matter how long they’ve been away…
Their return is always the sweetest.
So…I think that’s how God feels.
No matter how long we’ve been away from Him…
He anxiously awaits our return.
We don’t have to worry. We don’t have to wait. We don’t have to prepare the perfect speech.
And most of all, it doesn’t matter what separated us…
Because, like in the parable of the Prodigal Son, our merciful Father watches the horizon for our arrival.
“Just start walking. He’ll do the rest.”
Lord, help me stay close to you today. Forgive my wandering heart and guide my steps back to your light. I am home in your grace. Amen.
“We fear the cross – because we fear pain, loss, or surrender. “
So much truth here.
In an earlier passage, Armor for the Journey, we thought about how the cross is not just a symbol, it’s power.
In this passage we are again at the cross, but this time we are feeling its symbolic nature.
What it reminds us of…
How it makes us feel…
Why we may shy away from it…
And how it might stir up feelings that we can’t quite identify.
Today’s reading provides a new perspective…
We fear the cross because of what it symbolizes…pain, loss, surrender.
Let’s think about it…We live in a world that makes us believe we can do anything.
We can be anything we want, we can have anything we want, we can act in any way that makes us feel good.
And we can do it all on our own.
Perhaps our prideful behavior is challenged when we see the image of the cross?
Let’s be honest, I don’t know anyone who wants to feel pain, experience loss or relinquish control.
Do you?
It exposes our vulnerabilities and makes us feel small.
But maybe that’s exactly what God wants?
Maybe He wants us to acknowledge our own suffering to bring us closer to Him.
To hand it over to Him.
To rely on Him.
So, I wonder, how much suffering or loss do we have to experience before we turn to Him?
At what point are we willing to let Him in and attempt to learn from whatever may be occurring in our lives?
When do we “let go and let God”?
Here’s a thought…
What if we could we look at the cross as a reminder that our suffering is also felt by Him?
That because of it…we have hope. We have strength. We will endure.
But we do not have to endure it alone.
The passage says “lent is not only about spiritual disciplines – it’s about learning to love when it’s inconvenient, costly or unseen. That’s where Christ meets us”
We can love Christ, and trust Him, even when we don’t understand the “why”.
We can embrace our suffering and trust He will make all things beautiful.
Not beautiful in spite of our suffering…but because of it.
Jesus, help me embrace my cross today. When I’m tempted to despair, give me the grace to trust that You are working all things together for my good and for Your glory. Help me to remember that just as the cross led to resurrection, our pain will lead to new life. Amen.
The passage today says that God does not force us into holiness; He invites us, step by step.
I’m a visual person and words like this create such a beautiful image.
Stop for a moment and picture this.
Your favorite person in life is standing at your door, are you going to rush to open that door or will you keep it closed and leave them just standing there?
Now imagine that person is Jesus.
He’s right there, waiting patiently for us to answer.
He’s inviting us to open the door and allow Him to walk with us throughout the craziness of our day.
Will we leave Him and walk away, trying to do everything on our own?
Or will we open the door and accept His invitation?
The passage says: “Choose life” isn’t only about morality – it’s about freedom. We are shaped by what we choose.
When we rush from task to task each day it’s easy to get caught up in our own needs and timelines and overlook the choices we make.
Do we choose to be angry or selfish?
Or do we choose patience, and understanding.
Most days we likely don’t give much thought to either.
I don’t know about you, but most of the time I feel like I’m just responding to whatever is thrown at me without much consideration for how I got there.
The passage today points out that how we respond to each event in our day is actually a choice.
And that each choice has direction…it will either bring us toward God or away.
So what choices will each of us make today?
Dear Lord, this Lent I pray to slow my steps, by even a few seconds, and think about the choices before me and where they may lead. Please guide my choices and walk with me. Amen.
When I think about acts of service I think big actions.
Public displays of doing good.
But…I think I’m a “little things” person.
Those are the things that speak to me. Small acts of kindness.
I’m not the first to organize a food drive, but I’ll make a meal for a friend or bake cookies for college kids & friends.
I’ve never served the homeless on Thanksgiving morning, but you’ll find me lovingly making soup and bringing it to a loved one on a snowy day.
I don’t volunteer at homeless shelters, but I’ll quietly offer a blanket or socks to someone in need.
Part of me has always looked up to people who were able to “jump in” with both feet.
Those that seem to excel at starting a committee or club.
Those that can organize big fundraisers and donate thousands to causes around the world.
That’s not me.
The passage today points out though that the small things matter too.
So for now…I’m going to “serve without being seen” and trust God will lead me.
Lord, show me how to serve this lent. Let my hands be your hands, my feet be your feet, and my heart be your heart as I seek to help others in your name. Amen.
I hope you’ll indulge me for a moment for a quick personal update.
If you’ve been following along, you know I’ve surprised myself more than once by the words that have arrived on this screen.
We are only into the second week of lent and yet this writing experience has already brought up unexpected feelings.
Feelings of self-awareness, humility, and doubt.
But it’s also been joined by love, inspiration, and hope.
With that…I’m dedicated to continue this journey so thanks for letting me share my feelings.
Moving on to today’s passage…
It uses an analogy we can all relate to…washing. Although our thoughts instinctively turn to washing or cleaning our homes or faces, this passage asks us to focus on our thoughts and actions.
Washing what’s on the inside.
Let’s be honest, we spend tons of money, and effort researching products to clean our faces and beautify our appearance.
And, if you’re anything like me we spend even more on items to polish up every room of our home.
But how much money or time do we invest to beautify what’s in our hearts?
I myself am guilty of this.
Each morning I sit with God in prayer. I listen to Pray 40 on Hallow, I read the daily passage from this booklet, and I write from the heart.
And I truly feel satisfied and hopeful afterwards.
I feel grateful God helps me find the words and gives me the strength to share my feelings without fear.
Yet, once that quiet time ends, I’m right back to running around like a crazy person.
I’m still losing patience…
I’m still feeling the pressures of the day…
And I’m still juggling the burdens of the task list ahead of me.
So that’s when the guilt creeps in. That’s when the internal struggle begins.
One minute I’m writing and feeling God’s peace, and the next…
I’ve forgotten everything.
Washing the inside is a beautiful reminder that my relationship with God can be messy.
And I still have a lot to learn.
But Lent gives me the opportunity to slow down.
To offer myself grace when I stumble, and to be thankful that I’ve become more aware of His presence in my life.
“The real work happens in the soul’s interior rooms, where only God sees.”
Lord, help me to wash the inside. Reveal my blind spots and transform me from within so that I can live in harmony with You, with myself and with those you place in my life. Amen.
Love for someone: a spouse, a child, a parent, a friend.
Or in love with something: places, foods, books, hobbies, belongings.
Love exists in many forms and each of them are real.
Today’s passage emphasizes love and how it changes things.
All things.
It changes beliefs, motivations, experiences.
But how often do we actively love God?
How often do we place Him and his hopes for us at the center of our choices?
“The transfiguration reveals Jesus in glory, radiant with divine love.”
“This is my beloved Son; listen to him.” Mark 9:7
Now…I’m thinking very few of us have ever had an experience like the vision of Christ’s glory on a mountaintop but what if we could experience just a sliver of it?
What if we had the power to change the way we experience life?
What if we let love, God’s love, transfigure us? Our actions, our thoughts, our desires, our needs and most of all God’s place in our lives.
What would that look like?
Don’t you find when we act with love we usually feel lighter? More satisfied, more peaceful.
I think that’s God. I think when we feel that way it’s God letting us know He approves.
I want more moments like those.
I want to feel that approval from our Heavenly Father.
Loving is not exclusive to big grand gestures.
Sometimes, as St. Therese of Lisieux showed, it’s the little things.
It’s offering a hug, expressing patience, extending forgiveness, listening to a friend, making a meal or simply offering a cup of tea.
Small things done with love can change everything.
Truth is, we may never see the ripple effect of our actions, “we may not see visions of Christ’s glory”…
But God sees.
So…
“We can choose love again and again…and that is what transfigures”.
Radiant Christ, reveal your glory in my ordinary day. Open my eyes to see you, and in seeing you, transform me. Shape my heart and reflect your light through me, that I may be a vessel of your clarity and hope. Amen.
Love your enemy. “Love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you.” Matthew 5:44
I remember after 9/11, having a conversation with my brother. I don’t remember all of the details but I vividly remember him saying…
“I don’t know… I know God says to love our enemy and forgive but I don’t know if I can with this one.” I remember my instant response was “I know I can’t”.
Our father worked in NYC in 1 BT Plaza, a building across the street from the South Tower.
And he was in his office that horrible day.
When the tower fell, it tore his building apart, leaving a huge gash in the side.
Our Dad’s individual office faced the South Tower and it was obliterated by the collapse.
We had no idea where he was in the hours that followed.
We had no idea if he was even still alive.
Like so many others, it was a gut wrenching day for our family.
Praying, fearful, horrified, helpless, we were glued to the TV watching the gruesome events and images unfold before us in real time.
To this day…all these years later, we know just how blessed we were that our father made it home that night, when so many others did not.🙏🏻
This passage brought me back to that conversation with my brother.
I can see now, with certainty, that my brother was much further along in his relationship with God.
Although he wasn’t ready, the fact that he thought about God and trying to love the enemy says a lot.
That thought never even crossed my mind. I was filled with too much anger and fear.
Truth be told, I still can’t say I’ve forgiven.
And I still don’t know if have it in my heart to actively love those who’ve hurt me and those close to me, but…
I love God.
And I’m thinking about my connection with Him now, as opposed to back then.
So each day I’ll try.
Let’s be honest, we see violence and hatred everywhere we look these days.
The interesting thing is, I now find myself praying for those who carry such overwhelming anger and hatred in their hearts. And I pray for God’s presence in them.
That’s something I was never able to do before now.
So, I know that’s God. I know he’s working in my life. I know He’s helping me find peace in Him.
And I want His peace and His light to shine through me.
The passage says: “Jesus calls us not only to love those who love us, but to actively love those who have wounded us.”
What’s ironic is I sometimes find it easier to pray for people I don’t know, but a bit harder to pray for those who’ve hurt me in my own life.
Does anyone else notice that?
If we can extend love, forgiveness and prayer for strangers, why is it more challenging to have patience and offer those gifts of grace to the ones who are closest to us?
I can’t say I’ve forgiven those who’ve hurt our country and scarred our lives…
But I can say I’ll try.
I’ll pray.
I’ll continue to pray for safety and protection, I’ll pray for peace, I’ll pray for unity and compassion.
And I’ll pray the Lord “helps me to love, especially when it’s hardest”.
I know I ask for it from our Lord, probably on a daily basis, but am I willing to extend it to others just as easily?
The passage today says “Forgiveness isn’t a feeling – it’s a decision.”
A decision.
Let’s sit with that for a minute. “Forgiveness isn’t a feeling – it’s a decision.”
To me it’s always been a feeling.
Forgiving meant I felt better.
It meant it was over. The offense was null and void and in the past.
But is that true?
If I’m being totally honest with myself, perhaps it wasn’t null and void. Perhaps I buried the feelings, but did I really forgive my offender?
Or am I still carrying the weight of it all? Holding onto hurts only to have them bubble up at unexpected times?
The passage says, “forgiveness doesn’t erase the past, but it loosens its grip on our hearts. We’re not only setting others free – we’re healing ourselves.”
So…if we embrace those words…we can hand our hurts over to God.
We can decide to let Him handle it.
In His way, in His time.
And we can begin to heal.
As difficult as it may be to accept at times, I suppose it’s true…
Forgiveness is a decision. Deciding to forgive is intentional.
And ultimately, it’s freeing.
So maybe forgiveness is both.
A feeling and a decision.
If I decide to forgive, if I hand my hurts over to God, I’ll feel lighter, happier, more peaceful.
So…this lent I’ll pray for strength, honesty, and mercy and I’ll pray the same for you.
Forgive me Lord for my failings and help me to forgive others. We lay our hurts at Your feet…you can take it from here. Amen.
“Withdraw into your heart, and speak there with God who listens.” – St. Augustine
My quiet time each morning is the most precious part of my day.
I usually rise before the sun, and before anyone in my home.
I start the coffee and empty the dishwasher in the few minutes while it brews.
I turn on a small light in the corner of my family room and I sit with God.
I begin by offering my own little prayer of invitation…
“Come Holy Spirit. Come be with me in this pocket of quiet prayer. Help me to keep my heart open to God’s word, and to carry his message with me throughout my day.”
It’s during those quiet moments that I realize nothing else really matters. The clutter on my kitchen counters, the laundry that needs to be done, the task list for the day.
Everything can wait.
My mornings are precious, they are mine and mine alone with God and I cherish them.
The noise of life, the distractions, the chaos we endure each day, it’s all the work of the enemy to draw us away from Him.
See Revelation 12:17 – So the dragon was enraged with the woman, and went off to make war with the rest of her children, who keep the commandments of God and hold to the testimony of Jesus.
Today’s passage is a subtle reminder that despite all of my lofty intentions for growth and progress, silence and stillness is the way.
I’ve learned God speaks in the silence.
God listens in the silence.
God knows our hearts.
And he loves us always.
Psalm 46:10 – Be still and know that I am God.
Today…for me and for you, I pray for more stillness, more silence, more peace, more love. Amen.
What was your first thought when you read His name?
Jesus.
Did it bring peace and calm? Did it bring hope?
Or did it launch reminders of anger and frustration?
How often we use His name in vain.
How often we use it as a punchline or flippantly utter it in passing.
Yet, how often do we confess the sinful nature of those actions?
Well…this writing went in a direction I didn’t expect…
I suddenly realized just how often I use His name.
I use it in prayer, and I revere it, but if I’m being honest, I oftentimes use it in ways that are less than reverent.
Full disclosure…I gave up cursing for Lent. It was not until I declared it to myself and my family that I realized just how often I use inappropriate language.
So…I’m using a good old fashioned “swear jar” and offering prayers of repentance.
Each time I use a swearword I place a coin in a jar as a visual reminder (as of this writing there are already several coins in that jar) and then I whisper a prayer asking forgiveness.
This passage not only shined a light on my failings of choice language, it taught me that Jesus isn’t just a word, it isn’t just an expression…it’s powerful, it’s above all, and it’s a prayer.
So, this Lent, I pray for awareness of my words, and to think before I speak.
And, when I find myself at a loss for expressive thoughts in prayer… I’ll simply whisper His name…
“The measure you give will be the measure you get.” Luke 6:38
“Give, even when it costs you.” St. Vincent de Paul
How’s that for holding up a mirror to your soul?
Humbling.
Overall, I consider myself to be a generous person. With my time, money and energy as mentioned in the passage but those words, “give, even when it costs you”… hmm… makes you think.
How much of my generosity involves sacrifice?
Am I giving with all I have and with good intentions?
Or am I giving from just what’s “left over”?
And, maybe most importantly, am I doing it (whatever it may be at the time) with love?
Or am I acting with resentment and out of a sense of obligation?
Today’s passage reminds me of the ‘Take Root’ passage from a few days ago.
Perhaps I need more humility; perhaps I need to humble myself.
Let’s face it, life can be overwhelming and stressful at times. And I think that can lead to selfishness and anxiety. At one of those times when I was really feeling it, a sweet friend of mine said “you can’t pour from an empty cup”.
She was right. Putting pressure on myself never fixed anything. I need to remember to lay my worries at God’s feet and trust His plan. Humble myself and let Him lead.
This Lent I pray God continues to guide my steps, fill my heart, and remind me that offering kindness is a gift.
And I pray to remember the words from this passage:
“Generosity is not about guilt-it’s about trust. Trust that God will fill whatever you empty in love.”
Dear Lord, help me to give freely, act with love and to show humility and kindness to everyone you place in my life. Amen.
I wear a cross everyday and I can honestly say…I always feel a bit more grounded when I put it on.
If I happen to leave the house and realize I forgot it, I feel a little empty.
What does that mean?
Why do I feel empty without my cross?
Why do I feel vulnerable, yet never really stop to think about or question why?
I think this passage explains it beautifully…
“The cross is not merely a symbol — it is power.”
It’s power to remember He walks with us.
It’s power when I grasp it and whisper quick prayers of gratitude throughout my day.
It’s power, even when I get frustrated…especially on the road. (Ok…I admit it, at least once a day it takes extreme effort to remember we are all God’s children😉).
It’s power in support of our spiritual growth.
And…it’s a powerful reminder of who I am, who we all are…
Beloved daughters and sons of God.
This lent I’ll proudly wear my cross as the spiritual armor it is and I’ll and pray…
“to resist temptation, cling to grace, and be transformed.”
“He who humbles himself will be exalted.” Luke 18:14
Humble.
Social media, for all the good it can do, also fuels the flames of vanity. I’m sure you’ll agree it’s not easy to show humility when we live in a world that’s driven by a “look at me” culture.
Tell me if you agree or disagree with the following:
Our society, in general, seeks the spotlight on a daily basis.
We value social media likes, shares, comments.
We broadcast our accomplishments to the world and highlight our successes.
The expectation to be better than or smarter than or prettier than, to look younger than or be wealthierthan… the list goes on…
I don’t know about you, but I find the expectation to keep up is exhausting!
So, how can we begin to think less of ourselves, and more about others?
This sentence from the passage is beautiful, “humility doesn’t mean self-hate — it means truth. The truth about who we are, who God is, and how desperately we need him.”
So…just for a moment, I’d like to press pause…
I’d like to dig deep and really think about where our talents and “greatness” comes from.
I’d like to give thanks for all we have and all we are.
To give glory and praise to God for our experiences.
Because I believe our successes, and our failures, are gifts from God.
And they’re gifts we’re meant to share.
He gives each of us tools and opportunities. Sometimes we embrace them, sometimes we ignore them and sometimes we just get a little off track and need a loving nudge back in the right direction.
In my heart, I know this…He is with us.
He guides us and protects us each and every day.
He sees us.
And, most of all, He loves us.
This Lent I pray for humility: Lord, keep my heart gentle, my words kind, and my spirit teachable.
Help me serve with love, listen with grace, and walk in gratitude each day. Amen.
I snapped this photo during a walk on Palm Sunday in April, 2020. We certainly could not have predicted the road ahead at that time but this vine hanging over our path gave me hope.
In today’s passage, the following caught my attention:
“Even when we don’t know where the path leads, we know who leads us.”
Trusting God to lead the way, yet not knowing where to? That’s a tall order.
How do we follow with no certainty of the path ahead.?
Truthfully, I find it pretty simple to advise others to “trust, have faith, know that God has everything under control”. But how does that reality play out in my own life?
One thing is certain…(like many of my crochet or knitting projects), I’m a work in progress.
Oftentimes my “trust” comes when I’m at a loss for clarity.
When I just have absolutely no idea what God is thinking or what he wants from me.
What should I say to support those I love?
How should I respond to a comment or situation that is not in line with my own expectations?
Why am I feeling ill equipped?
Why am I in this situation if I don’t know how to help?
Is all of that uncertainty really part of His plan?
Truth is…when I’m feeling lost or unsure in my own life, it’s then that I realize just how difficult it can be to “trust and have faith”.
I want to fix things, I want to make everything better myself, I don’t want to wait and see. I like things to go according to a plan, my plan. And I’m not great when those plans go off track.
I alway say, everything happens for a reason; and I truly believe that except when what happens does not fit neatly into my vision.
So what is God trying to teach me in those moments? And why? Can I really feel peace in surrendering control? Could it be as simple as remembering He is with me?
“St. Augustine reminds us that Christ is both the goal and the path: we follow Jesus in order to arrive at Jesus. Lent gives us the space to take stock of what we’d been following instead – fear, reputation, self-will – and make a new decision.”
This lent, I pray for the courage to follow Him, wherever He leads. And for the humility to confess what I’ve been “following instead”.
