How to Keep a Lenten Practice That Actually Changes You
You decided to give up chocolate for Lent. Or maybe it was social media, or coffee, or complaining. For the first two days, you felt incredibly disciplined. You felt holy. There was a quiet satisfaction in saying no--like you were doing something good for your soul. But then, by the middle of the second week, you found yourself stress-eating a handful of M&Ms or mindlessly scrolling through your phone before bed. You realized you broke your fast. The guilt washed over you like a heavy wave. You thought, "I've already failed. Maybe Lent just isn't for me this year," and quietly, before March even arrived, you abandoned the practice.
If this sounds familiar, you're definitely not alone. Many of us have approached Lent like a spiritualized New Year's resolution--a challenge to test our willpower or prove our devotion to God. And most of us have stumbled along the way. We've tried to measure our faith by how long we can hold out, how disciplined we can be, or how many rules we can follow. But what if the whole idea of Lent isn't about proving anything at all?
Here's the good news: the problem isn't that you are spiritually weak or lacking in faith. The problem is simply that Lent was never meant to be a religious diet or a willpower contest. Its purpose runs much deeper and richer than that. The real purpose of Lent is to gently, intentionally, and lovingly return your heart to God. The Hebrew scriptures have a beautiful word for this--"shuv," which means to turn back. Lent is a season of turning around, a forty-day journey to reorient your life toward the love of God. It's less about what you give up and more about what you turn toward.
For centuries, the church has understood that returning to God requires more than just giving something up. A true Lenten practice involves three distinct movements working together: fasting (giving up), prayer (turning toward), and almsgiving (giving out). These three practices are woven together in Jesus' teaching in Matthew 6. When you practice only one--like fasting from sugar--without the others, it rarely leads to transformation. Instead, it can leave you feeling irritable, frustrated, or even empty.
Fasting creates a physical or emotional emptiness. It's a way of clearing space in your life, but that emptiness can feel unsettling or lonely if it's not filled with something meaningful. That's where prayer comes in. Prayer fills that emptiness with the presence of God. It's the sacred space where your heart can rest, listen, and be refocused. And then there's almsgiving--giving out to others. This practice ensures that your spiritual growth doesn't become self-absorbed or inward-focused, but instead turns your attention outward toward the needs of your neighbors and the world around you. When you combine these three movements, you create an environment where the Holy Spirit can do profound work in your heart.
So, how do you build a Lenten practice that actually changes you? Start by choosing a fast that targets something really competing with God's voice in your life. It might be easy to pick something popular, like giving up chocolate or social media, but what if you chose something that actually gets in the way of your relationship with God? Maybe you need to fast from constant news consumption that leaves you anxious, or from mindless spending that distracts you from trusting God's provision. Perhaps it's the habit of always needing to have the last word in arguments, which hardens your heart and blocks peace.
Once you identify that fast, pair it with a specific, achievable prayer practice. For example, instead of scrolling the news on your commute, spend those fifteen minutes listening to the Psalms or sitting in quiet surrender. Let your heart be still and open to God's voice. Prayer doesn't have to be complicated or long; it can simply be a moment each day where you pause, breathe, and invite God in. Finally, commit to one intentional act of generosity each week. This might feel small, but it's powerful. Pay for someone's groceries, write a note of deep encouragement to a friend, or give financially to a local shelter. These acts of kindness and generosity remind you that your faith is alive and meant to reach beyond yourself.
But what happens when you fail? What happens when you snap at your spouse, or buy the coffee you swore you were giving up? This is where the true beauty of Lent is found. Lent isn't ruined by a missed day. It isn't a streak you have to maintain on a tracking app. The moment of failure is actually where the practice truly begins. When you fail, you are reminded of exactly why you need a Savior. You are reminded of your own weakness, your limits, and your deep need for grace.
In that moment of failure, you simply pivot. You turn back to God. Lent is not about being perfect; it's about the practice of returning to God again and again, seventy times seven. The Lord calls to you through the prophet Joel, saying, "Return to Me with all your heart, with fasting, weeping, and mourning" (Joel 2:12). He doesn't demand a perfect record or a flawless performance. What He desires is your heart--open, humble, and willing to come home.
So I invite you to try again. Not with clenched fists and sheer willpower, but with open, dependent hands. Let this be a Lent marked not by what you give up, but by what you open yourself to--God's presence, God's love, and God's transforming grace. Consider starting the "Lent: 40 Days of Surrender" reading plan and join the "40 Days of Scripture" challenge. Let this be the year that Lent becomes less about a test you pass or fail, and more about a gentle, daily return to the Father who is already running out to meet you. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to keep coming back.