When I was young I used to resist – and even go as far as saying that I hated – Lent. Now that I have gained some years, I am happy to say that I welcome it.

The three traditional pillars of Lent include praying, fasting, and almsgiving. In the past I found that the six weeks of Lenten prayers, such as the Stations of the Cross, matched the seasonal weather: sad and gloomy. I found 40 days without my favourite treats unseemly. And without an income of my own (other than my allowance) to draw from, donations to charity didn’t make a big impact on me. 

Just as parents encourage children to do things that are “good for” them in hopes of creating healthy lifelong practices, my Lenten habits have adhered to my life and matured along with me.

Now, instead of viewing extra Lenten prayers as depressing, I look forward to escaping the demands of a busy schedule to spend quiet time alone with God. Making time to pray allows me to release my hold on the life of this world and to communicate with my Creator.

Because my children are older, I can make more time to talk to God and strive to listen to his voice. While I know I should do more of this throughout the year, setting the goal of doing more reflective praying and attending extra Masses during the six (short!) weeks of Lent seems very reasonable to me. Focusing on my friendship with God, and asking for healing and renewal, allows me to carry comfort and spiritual energy into my daily life. 

In a Lenten homily, Bishop Robert Barron shared his love for the Jesus Prayer, recommending saying it  once each day, or even multiple times a day: “Jesus, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

For anyone whose schedule makes contemplative prayer time hard to achieve, perhaps saying this brief but powerful prayer while driving, showering, or before going to sleep could provide the start of a new prayer routine this Lent.

In terms of fasting, I like to consider the words of St. Augustine of Hippo from his Confessions, “There is no pleasure in eating and drinking unless the discomfort of hunger and thirst have preceded them.”

In other words, unless we know what it is like to do without something, we will never truly appreciate it. The physical pangs of hunger are not part of some artificial “merit-reward” system rooted in suffering; they are merely opportunities to be reminded, through our bodies, of the eternal hunger and yearning in our souls for God.

This concept of fasting and hunger is true for physical sustenance, but it is also true for social media, technology, television, and other comforts of modern life. We are called to sacrifice something to recall our need to fill our lives with God. We are likewise called to fast from meat (or something equivalent for vegetarians or those with allergies) on Fridays, and to fast from meat and regular meal routines on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday in order to recall the death of Jesus and his ultimate sacrifice for us. 

As an adult I can appreciate the sacrifice of financial donations. We are always required to remember the poor and those in less fortunate circumstances than our own, and Lent is the perfect time to do so in earnest.

I also realize that we are called to give of our time and talent, as well as our treasure, so seeking opportunities to perform random acts of kindness or to help someone in need is a wonderful way to give of ourselves during Lent. 

The three pillars of Lent work together beautifully to help us grow into the people we are created to be. Prayer sustains us and grants us the grace to make sacrifices; sacrifices and fasting allow us to appreciate our blessings and develop empathy for those with less than we have; and empathy prompts our giving, both financially and through service. 

How blessed we are that the Church grants us a six-week period of self-reflection each year, to help us replace bad habits with good ones and to be renewed and ready for a fresh start every Easter. 

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