Lent this year didn’t begin the way I expected it to.
It opened right in the middle of Chinese New Year - a time of laughter, reunion dinners, and abundance. And I remember thinking how strange it felt to hold together two seemingly opposite realities: feasting and fasting, celebration and solemnity. Part of me leaned easily into the joy of the season. Another part knew I was being invited into something deeper, quieter, more interior.
Perhaps that was the point all along.
This Lent wasn’t about withdrawing from life, but learning how to remain with God within it. The real struggle is not choosing one or the other, but remaining spiritually anchored amid joy and distraction.
Every year for Lent and Advent, Celeste and I pick a reflection prgramme to embark on. This year, we decided to journey with Fr. Emmanuel Noel OCD's "Lent 2026: From Exodus to Easter" where he shared a short video and reflection for 40 days.
Exdous is such an amazing theatrical story with so many co-relations to Jesus' death and rising on the cross. And while I thought I knew the story well, there were still many nuggets of details I learnt fresh this round.
As I journeyed through Exodus, I began to notice a pattern, not just in the story of the Israelites, but in my own life.
And yet, I hesitate. I doubt. I hold back.
I saw myself in the Israelites more than I would like to admit. Quick to complain. Slow to trust. Surrounded by abundance, yet still feeling it wasn't enough. It’s almost uncomfortable to realise how often I live with a subtle fear that what I have or even who I am, will not be sufficient.
The manna in the desert struck me deeply. God gives just enough for each day, and yet the instinct is always to keep more “just in case.” I recognise that instinct in myself - in the way I plan, the way I secure, the way I hold on. Trusting God daily sounds simple, but living it out is something else entirely.
There were also moments of quiet clarity.
The image of the burning bush stayed with me. A fire that draws, but does not consume. That is what God feels like sometimes. Gentle, yet compelling. Mysterious, yet deeply personal. Not overwhelming, but impossible to ignore once noticed. And then the words: “I AM.”
It made me realise how much of my identity I try to construct on my own - through roles, responsibilities, expectations. Yet here is God, simply being. And through Christ, inviting me not just to know Him, but to call Him Father. There is always deeply grounding about that.
This journey also revealed how much I rely on others and how much others rely on me.
It was a honest struggle for Celeste and I to make time to share our Lenten experiences, but we still checked in. I came to know of some difficult news during the season, and while it breaks my heart, I know God has his reasons and ways.
I began listing the people in my life who needed prayer - family, friends, people carrying burdens quietly. The list grew longer than I expected. And with it came a quiet conviction: if I truly believe prayer matters, why don’t I turn to it more readily?
Love, I’m learning, is not just felt. It is carried often in prayer.
Lent also has a way of uncovering what sits quietly beneath the surface.
Pride. Attachment. The small “golden calves” I build for myself such as comfort, control, security.
They are subtle. Almost reasonable. Until I realise how easily they take God’s place.
There is a kind of interior “spring cleaning” that needs to happen. Not dramatic, not overnight, but intentional. Making space again. Clearing what clutters. Returning to what matters.
And yet, through all of this, one truth kept surfacing - I do not need to do everything on my own.
Stillness is not something I am naturally good at. Letting go, even less so. But over these 40 days, I’ve come to see it is about allowing God to be God.
And as the Lenten season draws to a close and we quickly entered into Holy Week, I find myself a little more aware, maybe a little more honest with a desire to trust.
Lent always have a gentle reoriention of the heart back to God. back to the simple, daily decision to walk with Him.
Read:
Ascension Lenten Companion - Walking with Mary to Jerusalem (with Fr. Mark Toups)
FORMED Live Holy Week (Dr. Tim Gray) Part 1 of 2
Lent 2015
Entering Into Holy Week
Psalm 22
Lenten Reflection 2009
Be Still this Good Friday
Anima Christi
Getting Lent Right
The Passion
Lent 2004
Last week of Lent
Into Lent
It opened right in the middle of Chinese New Year - a time of laughter, reunion dinners, and abundance. And I remember thinking how strange it felt to hold together two seemingly opposite realities: feasting and fasting, celebration and solemnity. Part of me leaned easily into the joy of the season. Another part knew I was being invited into something deeper, quieter, more interior.
Perhaps that was the point all along.
This Lent wasn’t about withdrawing from life, but learning how to remain with God within it. The real struggle is not choosing one or the other, but remaining spiritually anchored amid joy and distraction.
Every year for Lent and Advent, Celeste and I pick a reflection prgramme to embark on. This year, we decided to journey with Fr. Emmanuel Noel OCD's "Lent 2026: From Exodus to Easter" where he shared a short video and reflection for 40 days.
Exdous is such an amazing theatrical story with so many co-relations to Jesus' death and rising on the cross. And while I thought I knew the story well, there were still many nuggets of details I learnt fresh this round.
As I journeyed through Exodus, I began to notice a pattern, not just in the story of the Israelites, but in my own life.
God provides. God calls. God saves.
And yet, I hesitate. I doubt. I hold back.
I saw myself in the Israelites more than I would like to admit. Quick to complain. Slow to trust. Surrounded by abundance, yet still feeling it wasn't enough. It’s almost uncomfortable to realise how often I live with a subtle fear that what I have or even who I am, will not be sufficient.
The manna in the desert struck me deeply. God gives just enough for each day, and yet the instinct is always to keep more “just in case.” I recognise that instinct in myself - in the way I plan, the way I secure, the way I hold on. Trusting God daily sounds simple, but living it out is something else entirely.
There were also moments of quiet clarity.
The image of the burning bush stayed with me. A fire that draws, but does not consume. That is what God feels like sometimes. Gentle, yet compelling. Mysterious, yet deeply personal. Not overwhelming, but impossible to ignore once noticed. And then the words: “I AM.”
It made me realise how much of my identity I try to construct on my own - through roles, responsibilities, expectations. Yet here is God, simply being. And through Christ, inviting me not just to know Him, but to call Him Father. There is always deeply grounding about that.
This journey also revealed how much I rely on others and how much others rely on me.
It was a honest struggle for Celeste and I to make time to share our Lenten experiences, but we still checked in. I came to know of some difficult news during the season, and while it breaks my heart, I know God has his reasons and ways.
I began listing the people in my life who needed prayer - family, friends, people carrying burdens quietly. The list grew longer than I expected. And with it came a quiet conviction: if I truly believe prayer matters, why don’t I turn to it more readily?
Love, I’m learning, is not just felt. It is carried often in prayer.
Lent also has a way of uncovering what sits quietly beneath the surface.
Pride. Attachment. The small “golden calves” I build for myself such as comfort, control, security.
They are subtle. Almost reasonable. Until I realise how easily they take God’s place.
There is a kind of interior “spring cleaning” that needs to happen. Not dramatic, not overnight, but intentional. Making space again. Clearing what clutters. Returning to what matters.
And yet, through all of this, one truth kept surfacing - I do not need to do everything on my own.
The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still. - Exodus 14:14
Stillness is not something I am naturally good at. Letting go, even less so. But over these 40 days, I’ve come to see it is about allowing God to be God.
And as the Lenten season draws to a close and we quickly entered into Holy Week, I find myself a little more aware, maybe a little more honest with a desire to trust.
Lent always have a gentle reoriention of the heart back to God. back to the simple, daily decision to walk with Him.
Read:
Ascension Lenten Companion - Walking with Mary to Jerusalem (with Fr. Mark Toups)
FORMED Live Holy Week (Dr. Tim Gray) Part 1 of 2
Lent 2015
Entering Into Holy Week
Psalm 22
Lenten Reflection 2009
Be Still this Good Friday
Anima Christi
Getting Lent Right
The Passion
Lent 2004
Last week of Lent
Into Lent

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