Lent: A Season of Struggle, Grace, and Growth
How is your Lent going? Does it feel like a scenic drive down a California highway, wind in your hair, Katrina Wave’s “I’m Walking on Sunshine” playing and the sun shining? These 40 days will be smooth sailing you think? Or do you feel more like you’re stuck on the side of an icy Iowa road, spinning your wheels, listening to RUN DMC’s “Hard Times” and wondering if you’ll ever make it to the end?
No matter where you find yourself, one thing is certain: Lent is a journey, and it is not always easy. At some point, we all hit a wall. The enthusiasm we had at the start fades, and we find ourselves struggling, falling short of our own expectations, wondering, Am I even doing this right?
If you’ve ever felt that way, let me tell you something: you are not alone.
The Training Ground of Lent
I recently learned that the word dōjō means “place of the way.” It’s often associated with martial arts, but I recently heard the parish church described as a dōjō—a place where we train, grow, and learn under the guidance of a master. What a radical way of thinking about our faith!
Each time we come to Mass, we enter the dōjō, ready to learn. We listen to Scripture, receive wisdom from our spiritual teachers, and most importantly, sit at the feet of Jesus, our ultimate sensei. He is the one who trains us in holiness, who teaches us how to endure trials, and who reminds us that when we fall, we are not meant to stay down.
But training is hard. Growth is hard. And let’s be honest—Lent is hard.
Falling Short, but Never Falling Away
Maybe you started Lent strong, full of good intentions, only to find yourself slipping just a few days in. Life got busy. Old habits persisted. And suddenly, your Lenten sacrifices felt more like a reminder of failure than a path to holiness.
I know that feeling well.
This year, I was reminded just how fragile my own efforts can be. My family has followed a primarily plant-based diet for years, so abstaining from meat on Fridays was never difficult for me. But with a recent gluten allergy diagnosis, I had to change my diet—bringing meat back into my meals. Wouldn’t you know it? Three days into Lent, on the very first Friday, I completely forgot and ate meat.
I felt awful. Not just because of the mistake, but because deep down, I already felt like I wasn’t measuring up.
But God is so good.
The next morning, I was reminded of these words from Lamentations 3:21-24:
But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness.
Lent isn’t about getting it perfect. Lent is about learning how much we need God’s grace.
Jesus Himself tells us:
“I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me, and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)
That means when we fall short, we have two choices. We can stay down, discouraged, and convince ourselves that holiness is too far out of reach… or we can get back up, lean on God’s mercy, and keep moving forward in love. After all, in this dojo, that is the only way to advance the belt rank.
Even the saints had to do this. St. Paul himself admitted:
“The things that I want to do, I don’t do. And the things I don’t want to do, I do.” (Romans 7:15-20)
St. Maximilian Kolbe put it beautifully:
“The widespread idea that the saints were people dissimilar to us is false… Even they had to endure temptations, even they fell and got up again, even they were oppressed by sadness, weakened and paralyzed with discouragement… but they did not rely on themselves. They put all their trust in God. After every fall, they humbled themselves, repented, and then continued immediately to work with even greater zeal.”
This is what Lent is about. It’s not about perfect execution. It’s about training in trust. It’s about offering everything—our struggles, our failures, our victories—to Christ, and letting Him strengthen us.
The Invitation to Keep Going
So if you’re struggling this Lent, take heart. Maybe you feel like you’re stuck in a spiritual snowstorm, wheels spinning, unsure if you’ll ever make it through. Maybe you feel like you’ve hit the proverbial wall. Maybe you feel like you will never land that crane kick against that temptation that seems to bully you.
But here’s the good news: Jesus is right there with you.
He never asks us to walk this path alone. He simply asks us to keep going. To trust Him. To get back up. To keep loving.
Because when we do, we learn the secret of the saints:
His mercies are new every morning.
And with every fall, every struggle, and every step forward, we are drawing near to Him.