As we step into March, we find ourselves already well on the journey of Lent. Our forty day

pilgrimage began on February 18th—though winter weather kept us from gathering that day,

the season itself has quietly begun its work in us. Lent doesn’t wait for perfect conditions. It

meets us right where we are, in the middle of our routines, our worries, our hopes, and even

our snowstorms.

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In the sermon I had prepared for that Wednesday, I reflected on Jesus’ forty days in the

wilderness. He wasn’t alone there—God was with him in every hunger pang, every temptation,

every moment of silence. Those forty days shaped him for the ministry ahead. And in a similar

way, Lent is meant to shape us. Not through grand gestures or impossible expectations, but

through small, honest moments of turning our hearts back toward God.

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Lent has always been a season of preparation—preparing our spirits for the story of Jesus’

suffering, death, and resurrection. In the early church, these weeks were a time of deep

reflection for those preparing for baptism at Easter. Today, we are invited into that same spirit

of renewal. Lent asks us to slow down, to pay attention, to notice what in our lives needs

healing, forgiveness, or release.

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This year, I want to encourage each of us—children, teens, adults, and elders alike—to be

mindful during these forty days. Not in a heavy or guilt-filled way, but in a way that opens us to

God’s presence. Maybe that looks like setting aside a few minutes of quiet each day. Maybe it’s

choosing to let go of a habit that drains your spirit. Maybe it’s offering kindness where it’s been

hard to give. Maybe it’s simply whispering, “Here I am, Lord,” and trusting that God meets you

in that prayer.

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Lent is not about proving anything. It’s about returning. Returning to God’s mercy. Returning

to what matters. Returning to the truth that we are loved, forgiven, and called to live as people

of hope.

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As we continue through March, may these days draw us closer to God and closer to one

another. And may we arrive at Easter not rushed or weary, but ready—ready to receive the joy

that waits on the other side of the cross.

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Blessings on your Lenten journey.