Category: Lent 2025

Wednesday, March 26

Temple Grandin

Jesus told this parable: “A man owned a fig tree planted in his vineyard. He came looking for fruit on it and found none. He said to his gardener, ‘Look, I’ve come looking for fruit on this fig tree for the past three years, and I’ve never found any. Cut it down! Why should it continue depleting the soil’s nutrients?’ The gardener responded, ‘Lord, give it one more year, and I will dig around it and give it fertilizer. Maybe it will produce fruit next year; if not, then you can cut it down.’” – Luke 13:6-9

Have you ever heard of Dr. Temple Grandin? I recently watched a movie about her and was fascinated. Now I have seen a children’s book that really does a good job of telling about the life of Temple. (The Girl Who Thought in Pictures: The Story of Dr. Temple Grandin by Julia Finley Mosca, illustrated by Daniel Rieley. Published by The Innovation Press, 2017. There is a read-along on YouTube.)

In the story of the fig tree the vineyard owner could not see the beauty of the tree as a tree. He thought the tree was not good because it produced no figs. The gardener knew that the tree had worth simply because it was a tree.

Many people thought Temple had no worth. She could not speak at three years old. She had temper tantrums. When she got old enough to go to school she threw a book at a child and was asked to leave the school. Some doctors wanted her institutionalized, because she would never be normal. Her Mother refused to listen and moved Temple to a new school where a teacher found a way to unlock what was inside of Temple. Temple also went to stay with an aunt on a farm for a while There she learned to pay attention to the cows. Temple has autism and like the fig tree she needed more time to produce. Today Temple is a professor of animal science at Colorado State University and is a scientist, inventor and autism spokesperson.

Heavenly Father: Thank you for all of the different gifts and talents you have given us. Help us to remember that even though we are all different, we are all worthy of your grace and love. In your name we pray, Amen.

Daphne G. Grady

Tuesday, March 25

Asking ‘Why?’

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways.” – Isaiah 55:8

Across from me in the row of hard plastic chairs sits a small child. She can’t be much more than three, pigtails sticking out from her head, Kool-aid ring around her mouth, and big brown eyes staring up at her dad. He looks exhausted, but fights to keep the frustration out of his voice as she leans over and asks for the 37th time, “Why?” With a tight smile, he replies, “I don’t know, sweetie, but the people who know the plane are in charge.”

Like that little girl, I often find myself wondering why. My life does not look at all like I imagined it would, or like society tells me it should. I am a 43-year-old childless divorcee who lives 1,500 miles from home working a job that always felt like it was only going to be temporary. I have a degenerative autoimmune disease that interferes with my daily life sometimes, and last year I had major surgery. I’ve moved more times that the average person, and have left behind people and places that were dear to me each time. I often find myself leaning on my Heavenly Father and asking, “Why?”

It’s easy to fall into the same trap as the man in Jesus’s parable and feel like that fig tree. I haven’t produced the fruit that others expect-there is no smiling family, no big house or new car, no career accolades or even a clear path of where I’ll be in six months. “Why [do I] even use up the ground?” I might shout, but the words of God spoken through Isaiah provide comfort in not knowing. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways,” God says. How reassuring, because my thoughts are NOT terribly friendly when I find myself wrapped up in the cries of why? The beauty of this is that God’s thoughts and ways are so much more than mine could ever be.

Yes, those things I labeled myself as earlier are true, but in the end, they don’t matter. God has forced good from every not-so-wonderful situation in my life and brought me to a place even more full than I could have imagined. Why? Because at the end of the day, I am a child of God, and that’s where my value is. Titles and relationships and career may be impressive to the people around us, but they’re meaningless. The one who knows the bigger picture is in charge, and while I may still ask, “Why?” I can rest assured that even if I don’t have an answer, God does.

Hannah Froehlich

Monday, March 24

Prioritize What Fills Your Soul

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. – Romans 12:2

I can think of many things in my life that are full to the brim: my calendar, my to-do list, my dirty clothes basket, my mind as I’m trying to fall asleep at night. At this stage in my life, I am never at a loss for places to go or things to do. In our society it is easy to overfill your life with work, parenting and personal things and still feel like you aren’t doing enough. Am I volunteering enough? Should I have my child in music lessons? Am I pulling my weight at work?

But I don’t think that is the “full to the brim” we are going for here. I often find that the more full my schedule, the emptier I feel. My star word this year is “wise” and I have been trying to apply that to how I spend my time. What brings me joy? What sucks up my time? Is there anything I should be doing that I’m not? Based on my answers I have made some changes. For me this has looked like cutting down on social media, checking out more physical books from the library, prioritizing getting to choir practice, and adding stretching and meditation before bed. These small changes have had a monumental impact on how “full” I feel. I’m spending time learning new things, feeding my soul with music, strengthening my body, and sitting quietly with God. The old adage, “You can’t pour from an empty cup” has also proven to be true. Now that I am consciously working to fill my cup, I have more to give: more patience, more love, more focus.

It is so easy to get swept up into what society tells us we should do, or what we have always done. I urge you to take some time to evaluate your day-to-day. What fills you up? What depletes you? What shifts can you make toward the “renewing of your mind”? And finally, don’t beat yourself up if your reality right now tends more toward a full calendar, and less toward a full soul. I’ve only been doing this a month, and who knows where I’ll be in my journey when you are reading this. It’s just one day at a time.

Dear Lord, Please help me cut through the noise of my day-to-day life to find and prioritize what fills my soul. Amen

Molly Means

 

Saturday, March 22

Leah

Jerusalem, early in the week before Passover

Early that morning, Daniel and Leah left the inn where they and their family were staying during the festival week. The streets were already beginning to fill with shopgoers and pilgrims as they made their way across the city toward the Temple.

A large crowd had already gathered at Solomon’s Porch. “They’re waiting to hear that young rabbi from Galilee, I expect,” said Daniel. “We’ll go right past them.”

“But he’s a wonderful teacher,” said Leah, “and he’s a great healer. You heard what old Ezra said about him. I’d like to listen to what he says.”

“I’m going to the men’s court to pray. You need to go to the women’s meeting place.”

“Look! There’s a group of women waiting here. Some of them are pilgrims like us. I will be quite safe with them.”

“I don’t like the idea, but there are plenty of Temple guards around, so I suppose it’s alright. I’ll meet you here after morning prayers.”

As Daniel went into the Temple, Leah joined the waiting women, who greeted her and welcomed her into their group like an old friend. As they waited they chatted about their children, families and even what they would serve at the Passover supper. For all of them, it was their first feast away from home. Each had brought some kind of ingredient to remind them of former family gatherings. Selene from Crete had brought sweet gourds from the family field.

Leah said, “I brought only a tiny thing to add – the radishes from my kitchen garden. They’re very small but very spicy. I slice them very thin and serve them in salted water. My gran says the salt water represents the tears the Israelites shed in Egypt. I didn’t bring many radishes, but I’d be happy to share.”
While the new friends were chatting, another newcomer joined the group. Tall she was and past her first youth. She approached them cautiously and spoke with a low, gentle voice: “Will the Teacher come to speak to us today?” she asked.

“I hope so,” Selene responded. “I’ve been waiting for him since sunup.

“You’ll be glad you did when you hear his words.”

“You’ve heard him then?”

“Yes. We talked together. He spent two days in my village and taught us many things.”

“You talked with him? Impossible! Men don’t speak with women. You’re making that up.”

“No. He was sitting by the well when I came to draw water. He asked for a drink of water and then we talked. He knew more about me than I knew about myself. He opened my eyes to all the errors of my past life. He made me desire to do better. Since that day I have changed the way I live and how I deal with others. His message brought tears to my eyes – tears of regret, tears of repentance, tears of joy at receiving forgiveness. I owe my life to him. I know he is the Messiah. That is why I came here this morning. I know he is in danger and wish to share this danger and his Passover.”

Leah wept. “You’ve touched my heart. More than ever I wish to hear his words.”

“Be quiet, girls,” hissed one woman. “Someone is climbing onto the speaker’s platform. Listen to him!”

Guy Johnson

Friday, March 21

Under God’s Wings

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed, That I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait on the LORD; Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait I say, on the LORD.” – Psalm 27: 13-14

Waiting on God in difficult situations can be hard. Things may not go as we plan but God’s plans for us are always good. We certainly don’t feel that way when we are going through, yet when we look back after some time has passed we can see God’s hands at work.

I remember when my marriage of fourteen years began to crumble. I prayed and pleaded with God to save my marriage. After many counseling sessions I kept hearing God say, “Let go”. I cried and I cried because I didn’t want my sons to have a broken home. A few days later I began to pray, “Lord Jesus help me to let go.” I felt the heavy weight lifted up off my shoulders then a wave of peace wash over my soul. That was the day I told my husband that if he still wanted to leave he could go and he did. It was not easy but I knew God was carrying me and my sons in His loving arms.

Have you ever heard someone say to a newly separated or divorced person, “Well at least you got the house!” I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. Two days after my husband left I got a phone call from Wells Fargo and the representative said to me, “Ma’am I don’t know how you’re still in that house. The mortgage hasn’t been paid in almost two years.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After talking to my husband about it he admitted that he hadn’t been paying the mortgage and hoped I would never find out. The house was in foreclosure and we had to move out by August 11, 2011. By the grace of God the boys and I moved into a townhouse August 6, 2011. Devin and I still live in that townhouse and it is a place of peace and solitude for us. I know it’s hard to see good in hard times but through it all we have a loving Savior who is always with us.

I am reminded of a song I love to sing. “Through it all, through it all, I’ve learned to trust in Jesus. I’ve learned to trust in God. Let me tell you that, through it all, through it all, I’ve learned to depend upon his word.” (Through It All, Andre Crouch)

Heavenly Father, cover us with your mighty wings and take away our fears. Even in our darkest times we will wait on you. In Jesus name amen

L. Darlene Dickson 

Thursday, March 20

In the Wilderness

O Lord, the God who saves me, day and night I cry out before you. May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry. For my soul is full of trouble and my life draws near the grave. – Psalm 88:1-3

Wilderness.

Wandering. Where are we?

Have love and compassion blown away
with the tumult?

In this landscape teeming with hearts
seared by arid indifference,
has the very breeze brought winter to the soul,
weariness to the heart?

Where, oh where is the light?

Come Holy Spirit!

Renew in our hearts the kind of love Jesus mandates.

Blow away the suffocating dust of prejudice,
the choking mold of division.

Breathe on us, we pray, with your holy fire.

Fill us with brotherly love.

Inspire us to welcome in a fresh renewal
of joy and gratitude
as fragrant and healing
as the blooms of springtime.

Gracious and powerful God, we need you to guide us back to the ways of Jesus, to his simple command to love one another. Send the Spirit to move among us, to stoke the fires of healing love. Amen.

Betty Schroeder

Wednesday, March 19

Joy in the Harvest

The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. – Matthew 9:37

At the end of my raised garden beds are tall trellises which support green bean plants. By the early fall last year, the bean plants were overflowing the top of the trellis, growing downward and therefore, very full and thick. I had to use a ladder to reach the top. Daily harvests were necessary. Each afternoon, I’d climb the ladder to start my search for the beans ready to pick.

When looking around the outside of the foliage, I found ripe beans and picked those first. But I knew there were many more to find since I’ve had experience harvesting fruit. For many years, I picked blueberries at a farm and was used to getting INSIDE the large blueberry bushes to find so much hidden fruit.

So that’s exactly what I did with the green beans. I got INSIDE the thick foliage – up close and personal. That was how I found ALL of the hidden beans that I wouldn’t have seen looking from the outside. One day, I thought about how it took my total attention and investment in finding the ripe beans. I literally had to get in and underneath the foliage to see them. It reminded me how our spiritual life takes attention and personal involvement to really participate in the building of God’s Kingdom.

The Bible contains many references to “harvest” with numerous metaphors and lessons to be learned from the harvest concept. The path on which my fall bean harvest thoughts took me was related to spiritual growth and health. It doesn’t usually come from sitting back, looking in from the outside and just expecting it to come to you. Of course, God’s prevenient grace is there whether we know it or not. But there’s more. 1 Corinthians 3:9 says “For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building. In verse 8, it says that God gives the growth, but verse 9 says we are participants with God, working together with each other and with God. It is a call to use our gifts in building God’s Kingdom.

So when we get up close and personal, invest with our whole body, mind and spirit – that’s when we have opportunities to really grow spiritually, and importantly, be vessels for God’s use in ministering to other people.

It can get messy. When I ducked out from under the green bean foliage, I had twigs in my hair. It was a strain to put my hand through the small square in the trellis to reach for a bean on the other side. The oily underside of the leaves would stick to my clothing. I wore long sleeves so my arms wouldn’t itch. I had to make sure my ladder was steady so I wouldn’t fall. In other words, I had to be equipped for the harvest. In spiritual terms, God equips us through our community fellowship, through prayer and study, and through faith to trust in Him.

As Matthew says, the harvest is great. But it doesn’t get fully accomplished without our participation with God. God calls us and He equips us. But we must say YES to God. Get involved, be fully invested. Get inside, get messy. Find Joy in the harvest!

God, help us hear your call to the places and people where our gifts may be used for building Your Kingdom on earth. Give us courage to say yes and fully invest our mind, body and spirit in our ministry with You. Amen.

Kathy King

Tuesday, March 18

Let the Tears Fall

“Yet even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning. – Joel 2:12

It was one of those mornings where nothing was going right. I had driven to meet up with friends, but couldn’t find them in the massive crowds, so I turned around to head home. On the way, a text canceled plans for later that day. It was too much. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, so while driving toward Jefferson Highway and home, I let the tears fall. The wailing started shortly after. It was the kind of crying you do with your whole body; the rest of the way home, I’m sure I was quite the sight for the drivers beside me, but I didn’t care. The frustration and anxiety and overwhelm had been building all week until finally it had consumed me. I needed the release to make room for peace.

Crying is a biological response to overwhelm; it’s how our bodies deal with stress and grief. The act of crying soothes the soul and can, in fact, bond people together. Just as the physical tears clean the eyes, the act of releasing the emotions cleans the heart. I was so consumed by my own version of what the day, the week, my life was supposed to look like that I had allowed the spaces in my heart to fill with junk. On that Saturday in my car, it was only after I was emptied that I could feel God’s guiding hand for that day.

That’s what Joel’s message in chapter 2 reminds me of. The Israelites had turned from God (again) and he was urging them to clean out the space in their hearts for God to fill them up. The call to fast, to weep, to mourn is more than just a direction for them to feel bad about turning away. To truly weep for something is to let it overtake you, to give in to the emotions and release the control we think we have over things. Just like with me in my car, it was only after the Israelites cried it out that the Lord could move into those spaces. They had to first give up all of themselves — the physical needs in fasting, the emotional control with weeping, and the ideas that they knew what was best with mourning — in order to receive the blessings God had planned for His people.

God has blessings planned for you, too. Cry it out if you need to, so that your whole self is free to receive them.

Hannah Froehlich

Monday, March 17

I Learned It From My Mama

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing. – Matthew 23:37

In the depths of Lent, we are reminded of God’s profound love, a love that echoes the tender care of a mother for her children. Jesus’ lament for Jerusalem reveals just how much God loves us, even when we resist or reject it. Just as a mother hen gathers her chicks, Jesus longs to gather us under his wings, offering refuge and comfort.

The image of divine protection resonates especially this year, as I navigate the bittersweet journey of life without my mom in it. Her death has left a void that can never be filled. Yet, in her physical absence, I find myself clinging more tightly to the promise of God’s motherly love – a love that is unconditional, sacrificial and ever-present.

As my mother’s daughter and as Jane and Livia’s mama, I have learned and continue to learn to understand the transformative power of maternal love. It’s a love that urges me to embrace all that I am so that I can know, accept and love my daughters unconditionally. My motherhood journey is a spiritual path, leading me to a deeper understanding of God’s lavish and expansive love.
In this season of grief for me, the assurance of God’s love fills me with a sense of security that overflows, reminding me that life, when lived in God’s presence, is indeed full to the brim. This fullness is nourishing, a spiritual sustenance that satisfies deepest longings, filling with a joy that spills over into every aspect of life.

God, open our hearts to be full to overflowing with your motherly love. Help us trust – even in our desert moments, times of loss and longing – that your love remains steadfast and full. Amen.

Mari Walker

Saturday, March 15

Marius

The offices of Marius, chief architect and engineer of Tetrarch Herod Antipater

Marius stood on the balcony outside his workroom looking down at the workers below busy at their task of raising the walls of the new wing. In his mind he could see the finished structure, an enduring monument to Roman building skill. He marveled at the good fortune which had brought him from a minor office in the Roman Legion to his high rank in the Galilean court.

Stepping back into the workroom, he glanced at the small boy sitting at a table by the window, studying an open scroll before him while chewing on the stylus of his wax tablet.

“Judah,” he said, “have you solved the problem?”

The boy looked up, smiling. “Yes, sir. I think so, but it’s a furry monster.”

“Romans can conquer any monster they face. Let me see what you’ve done. Well, now. That looks quite good. I think you can wrap up your math studies for the day. It’s almost time for your Hebrew lesson.”

“Do I really have to learn Hebrew, Father? I’m a Roman and I’m going to be an engineer like you.”

“Judah, you’re a Roman like me, of course, but you’re a Jew also like your mother. You are a very lucky boy. Romans have spread good roads and fine buildings with peace and justice throughout the world. The Jewish people have taught us about the things of the spirit. Remember how sick you were last year? We were all afraid we would lose you. But a holy Jewish man, a rabbi, answered my plea for help. His great power healed you, and here you are healthy and fit. Now, run along down to the kitchen and see if Cook has a treat to reward your good work today. You have time for that before Hebrew lessons.”

Marius had barely settled down to work when his scribe brought him a fresh dispatch from the tetrarch. “He calls upon the whole court to join him in Jerusalem for Passover this year. There are rumblings among the people that the Teacher is the predicted Messiah and that he will declare himself their king this year. The tetrarch wishes to use his influence to avoid bloodshed.”

Marius shook his head. “I know this prophet to be a great and good man and no threat as a rebel. Give the orders for our household to pack at once.”

When Judah returned to the office a few minutes later he brought a jar of pudding with him. “Look, Father, Cook has made this pudding for us. It’s full of dates and apples and nuts. She says it’s to serve at Passover to remind us of the mortar anchoring the bricks made by the Hebrew slaves.”

“Mortar never tasted this good, son, but we’ll be going to Jerusalem for Passover this year, and we will take some of this with us to share. If it’s possible, we’ll give some to a very holy man and you will meet the one who healed you.”

Guy Johnson