“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!
Growing up, Holy Saturday was a very special day. Some of my earliest memories were going to my grandparents’ house on Holy Saturday for the food blessing.
Every year, my grandmother created and wrapped beautiful Easter baskets for each of us. They were filled with toys, chocolates, and all the Easter fun you could imagine.
But…in addition to those, it’s Polish tradition to create baskets filled with foods to be blessed and eaten on Easter Sunday.
Traditional Polish Easter Basket items included:
Butter – often shaped like a lamb or a cross representing the “Lamb of God”
Easter Bread (Babka) – Representing the “Bread of Life”
Horseradish – Represents the Passion of Christ and the bitterness of His suffering.
Decorated Eggs – New life & Christ’s resurrection
Sausage (Kielbasa) – God’s favor, generosity and the end of fasting.
Ham – Joy and Abundance
Salt – Represents purification, prosperity and a reminder to be the “salt of the earth”
Cheese – Moderation in all things
Candle – Light of the world
Colorful ribbons and sprigs of greenery to decorate the basket as symbols of new life and joy in the season of spring
So, part of the tradition was filling our own baskets to take to church with my grandmother for the blessing.
Mind you, many times the blessing was in Polish, so we didn’t always understand what was being said, but in some way…we knew. And we knew being there, with my grandmother, is what made the moment special.
It was a beautiful tradition and when my children were young we still drove an hour each way to go to my grandma’s house on Holy Saturday.
I miss my grandparents dearly, and I miss that tradition. Truth is, we tried to carry it on for a while after she passed but it never was quite the same.
I got off track there for a bit…
Today’s passage reminds us that Holy Saturday is “a day of waiting. No miracles. No appearances. Just silence and the aching stillness of loss”.
This year…Holy Saturday for me is about more than just getting ready for Easter Sunday. It’s about the mystery of the Resurrection. It’s about “offering grief and holding onto hope”.
So…we wait.
Today, not only will I recall the traditions of my childhood, I’ll simply “rest in the truth that God is still moving – even when unseen.”
“Lord Jesus, in this quiet stillness, we wait with you. Replace our doubt with trust in your promise as we look with hope toward the dawn of your resurrection. 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.
Today’s passage talks about “fire-tested faith”. It reminds us that Lent is not about comfort, it’s about conviction.
Do we still trust God when things are not going our way?
Are we willing to face the bad with the good?
Are we still thankful? And do we remember the blessings in our life or do we let our suffering overshadow them?
I’m struggling with this one a bit today.
How do we respond when we feel tested?
I think it’s easy to be thankful when life is in harmony with our expectations but when we face challenges and set backs…well…
The last few lines of today’s passage create a powerful image…
“Are you still trusting God when your fire isn’t put out? Stand firm. You are not alone in the furnace.”
Heavenly Father, in the heat of our trials, when the flames feel too high, let my faith not be broken. Give me the endurance to stand firm and trust in Your presence. 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.
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.”
When I think of suffering, I tend to think of the ‘big stuff’…disease, abuse, trauma, losing a loved one.
But I think there’s suffering in the little experiences of day-to-day life too.
It exists in a difficult conversation, an argument, a misunderstanding. A delay in our schedule or plans. A heartbreak.
All of those trials are the crosses we bear.
The passage reminds us “Jesus knew what was coming, but he walked toward it with peace.”
How many of us could say the same?
If we knew, for certain, what was ahead for us, would we be able to walk toward it with peace?
Truth be told, I think if we knew something difficult was just around the corner, we would likely pivot on our heels and run in the opposite direction. Do whatever we could to avoid or delay anguish, pain, failure.
The passage today tells us, though, that suffering is not a sign of failure.
Suffering in Christ is never wasted.
In whatever hardship we are walking through right now…God is working.
Honestly, I think that’s where I struggle a bit. Because, I believe God is with me, I believe He is with each of us. And I think these writings have shown me even more just how present He is in my life.
Yet when I experience hardships, I’m right back to where I started. I still question Him, I still doubt, I still want to understand ‘why’.
And then…I do what I think many of us do…I start to compare.
Maybe it’s those times, those moments, when I unwittingly compare my cross with someone else’s… that’s when I fail.
Not in the suffering, I fail because I start to turn away from God rather than walk toward Him.
Let’s face it…No one wants to experience suffering but when we do…
I think God just wants us to remember that even then— even now— even when bad stuff happens, He is with us. And He is weaving every single thread of our experiences, big and small, good and bad, into a miraculous tapestry.
Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
Dear Lord, I surrender my worries to You. Guide me in every decision, and help me to see Your hand at work in every moment. Fill me with Your peace, courage, and endurance to face whatever comes. Amen.
“Do not delay your conversion by clinging to pride”. – St. Jerome
We’ve talked about pride in several other posts this Lent and here we are again. Learning yet another way that our pride affects our relationship with God.
Pride delays conversion.
Psalm 95:7-8 – If today you hear his voice, harden not your heart.
So, where in your life today may you be hearing God’s voice?
What might you gain by listening?
And what might we miss by ignoring it?
If I’m being honest with myself, I suppose I hear his voice every single day in one way or another. But I just now realized…I harden my heart.
I wait for a ‘better time’ to think about it (whatever it may be at the time), or to make a change or take steps.
I rely on myself, or things in my life, to get me through the challenges of my day rather than stopping, even for a moment, to acknowledge those feelings and God’s presence.
Today’s passage teaches that when God’s voice touches something inside of us, our hearts often resist, especially if it touches something uncomfortable.
So after reading this I wonder…
Each time those moments arise and we feel that discomfort, is that’s God’s voice?
Is that Him calling out to us? Wanting us to pause?
Maybe, in those moments, He’s asking us to turn to him…to remember Him, to rely on Him.
And maybe we avoid those feelings because of our own pride?
But, here’s what I think…
I think we don’t have to hide the things that call each of us away from Him.
He already knows.
His voice isn’t judging. It’s to remind us that He sees us, every part of us…
And He loves us anyway.
He will guide us through whatever might be holding us back.
So today, rather than waiting for a ‘better time’…or delaying our own conversion, what if we crack open our hearts and let His mercy flow in?
My prayer today comes straight from the passage:
Lord, give me a soft heart today – ready to listen, ready to turn, ready to be changed. Amen.
I’ve always struggled with the story of Lazarus, and understanding Jesus’ decision to stay away. To wait two weeks before going to Martha and Mary.
A very dear friend once said to me. “If you called and said you needed me, I’d be on my way within minutes. But He waited 2 weeks? Why? Just so he could make it about him. Just so he could show off what he could do. Sounds like a narcissist.”
Those words cut me so deeply.
And I knew it wasn’t true.
Yet, at the time, I couldn’t quite find the words to refute her, because I couldn’t understand why Jesus would wait.
What was the real lesson and message?
Why didn’t he go right away?
Why didn’t he save Lazarus, even though he knew he could?
I was certain it wasn’t just about glorifying himself, but I still couldn’t grasp the ‘why’.
Today’s passage made me think about that conversation and the story of Lazarus all over again.
The passage revealed a few things, “Jesus enters our grief – not to fix it immediately, but to feel it with us. He draws near in tears, in silence, in presence.”
John 11:35 ”Jesus wept”.
So maybe the story wasn’t just about what Jesus could or could not do for Lazarus.
Maybe, like being a parent, even though we could prevent a difficulty or solve a problem for our child, we need to let them learn and grow from their experiences.
I think we can all agree, when it comes to our children, young or adult, there are times we can see a freight train coming from a mile away. And we want to jump in and divert the tracks to spare our child.
But sometimes, in order to help guide them, we need to step aside and let them spot the warning lights on their own.
It doesn’t mean we don’t care about their struggles…it doesn’t mean we want to see a collision just so we can step in, pick up the pieces, and save the day afterwards.
I think, as painful and hard as it may be for us, it means we love them enough to let them stumble.
We love them enough to let them live and learn…
And hopefully to help them grow closer to God along the way.
So maybe, that’s what was happening with Lazarus.
Jesus could have intervened and prevented his death, we all know it, but maybe there’s more to it than that.
Maybe it was about sharing His love for them. About feeling what they felt.
Maybe the lesson is that even in our deepest sorrows, Jesus is there and he loves us enough to let us fall.
I certainly don’t understand God’s plan, or his timing. Nor will I claim to understand the “why” in each of our sad experiences and troubles.
But I am certain of one thing…
God is by our side and feeling it along with us.
If we bring it all to God, raw and unpolished, we don’t have to explain and we don’t have to understand.
In those moments, we can simply weep in his arms…
“Jesus, you wept with Martha. Be near me in my sorrows and teach me your compassion. Amen.”
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.
“His wounds are the remedy for ours”. – St. Bernard of Clairvaux
Have you ever thought of it that way?
What an incredible perspective.
When we get scraped or cut we know just what to do.
We know how to make it better.
Clean it, apply some pain relief gel and cover it with a bandage. Easy process. Works everytime.
But what about when we are injured in unseen ways?
Betrayed, insulted, abused. If we struggle with addiction or resentment?
How do we make those things better? There’s no amount of pain relief gel or bandage big enough to soothe those afflictions.
So what do we do?
Today’s passage offers us an option.
It reminds us that Jesus’ wounds are where we can find internal healing. Rather than turning away from the sight of his pains, we can embrace them. “Look through them – and see healing waiting.”
Once again we are invited to bring our struggles to God.
He is with us in our suffering…
He is the way to healing.
The last line of this passage sums it up beautifully…
“Let Jesus touch what hurts. It may not erase the scar, but it will redeem the pain.”
Lord, may the wounds of our Savior Jesus Christ heal the wounds of our souls. Amen.
The title of this passage creates an image of strength.
Drive out the darkness. It feels forceful, powerful.
So how do each of us define ‘darkness’?
And where does the strength to drive it out come from?
What if we don’t feel strong?
The passage today says that Lent is a battle not against people or the flesh…it’s a battle within.
A battle with pride, greed and fear.
That resonates with me.
Many times throughout this Lenten writing experience I’ve questioned if I’m doing the right thing.
Where will this lead?
Does anyone even read these posts?
Do my thoughts and words matter?
And…am I helping anyone…or am I just embarrassing myself by exposing my questions and vulnerabilities?
As I write today, I realize I’m fighting my own battle with pride and fear. Maybe those are the demons that need to be driven out. They are the ‘darkness’ within.
Even though I know God led me to begin these readings and writings…
Here I am, not even half way through Lent, already grappling with insecurity, doubt, fear, and worry.
They all make me question if I should keep going.
But maybe my doubts, of myself, my words and my actions with these writings, are coming from the enemy?
Maybe, the passage today is just what I needed. It shined a light on those feelings.
It’s a reminder of why I started this project in the first place…
To grow closer to God.
Maybe His light is what will help me to drive out the darkness.
Because…here’s what I know…
God is truth.
God is love.
God is light.
Those feelings of confusion cannot be coming from God.
So today, I’ll rely on Christ’s presence, His truth.
I’ll rely on His love and authority to battle with me.
He is where all of us can find the strength to ‘Drive Out the Darkness’.
Lord, shine Your light into every corner of my heart, home and mind. Let all shadows of doubt and fear be replaced by hope and strength. Amen.
“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.
“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.
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.
“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”.
