Jesus calls out to us: "Come to Me"
And, filled with faith, we walk upon the sea
With our eyes upon the master, we rise above
And we walk to him with hearts full of love

But then we look down and see just where we are
We falter and start to sink after we came so far
We reach out for Jesus to save us again
We lost our focus and what happened then?

We have all been prodigal
We have all been dead in our sin
We have all denied the Father
And wanted our own life to begin

We have chased things that leave us empty
We have consumed things that do not satisfy
We have searched for love in all the wrong places
We hit rock bottom, ready to break down and cry

We are in the land of loss and suffering
We brought this upon ourselves
Wandering in the barren lands
Chained up in our own personal hells

Eventually we come to our senses
We see the price that our actions cost
We come crawling back to our home
But we are back; we are no longer lost

We are filled with sorrow and remorse
But the past is in the past; right now, we celebrate
"Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet
The finest wine put in his cup and meat upon his plate"

Today, all of Heaven rejoices with a grand feast
Light and life arise like the morning sun in the east
There is now much laughter and music and dance
The colors are more vivid, and my senses enhanced

We will come from suffering to celebration
We will come to a more perfect relation
We will know the true joy of Easter morn
Because, from out of suffering, we have been borne

Lord, thank you for your saving grace and for calling us to yourself. We are called to rise above the trials and storms of life, and we can when we keep our eyes fixed on you. But we lose focus Lord, we doubt, and we are pulled under. Save us Lord and give us the courage to step out on the water and go where you call us. We also pray that you would see us through the suffering to celebrate with you again. Help us be mindful of our sins and soften our hearts to be remorseful and repentant so we may rise with you in your resurrection. Amen.

We will close with these words:
"There's no one more thankful to sit at the table than the one who best remembers hunger's pain. And no heart loves greater than the one that is able to recall the time when all it knew was shame". --Steven Curtis Chapman "Remember Your Chains"

No matter what, in our lives, we do
Everything is better when I work with you
He created us to be together, created us to share
In His Glory and feel his presence everywhere
On our own, we try to create a song, a work of art
It's simple and awkward, but filled with such heart
We were not supposed to go it alone
But as iron sharpens iron to help and hone
We try to do the will of God
We try to hear what He is saying
Our attempts are small and feeble at best
But he sees us and quietly he smiles and nods
He whispers in our ear "Don't stop. Keep playing"
And transforms our sad solo into a divine duet

When we find ourselves taken by bitter sorrow
When we don't know if the sun will rise tomorrow
When we drink with Jesus the cup of suffering
When we think about his blood that is covering
When we recall the seven sorrows of Mary
And how, her son's lifeless body, she would carry
Midwives used myrrh against pain in childbirth
Mary, of all women, knew how much it is worth
Her very name is from Myrrh: meaning bitter
And through it all she wasn't a quitter
It is costly and rare, signifying suffering and death
But it is also used to prepare and purify
The bodies of those who had died
She shares our sorrows, and she dries our tears
She listens and prays for us; she understands our fears
We can run to our mother and be safe in her arms
To find healing and peace away from all that harms
She knows the value of suffering
And she knows just what it cost
A gift of love transcending everything
Her son hung on a rugged cross

Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death
Through our suffering, prepare our hearts and purify
That we might be an acceptable offering to God when we die
Take us back home to Heaven where we belong
When we are together, we are better; we are strong

In our sorrow and our sadness
When all hope is lost and so is gladness
I fall on my knees in pain and suffering
As I cry Abba Father, keep me from the sting
If you are there, if you love me: save me from my foes
Turn this darkness into light and bring me from my woes
Can you not feel my pain? Do you not know my hurt?
My God, without your love, I am no more alive than dirt
One small drop in a sea of people, do you hear me?
If you would say but one word, I could finally be free
But if you don't Lord and this is to be my fate
If this is something that isn't up for debate
Then help me carry my heavy wooden cross
For you are my strength when all hope is lost
I remember your agony, your sweat and your tears
I remember all the pain and heartache and fears
You asked for the cup to pass you by
With eyes raised up to the dark night sky
"But not my will, but yours be done
And I will be your faithful son"
So, Lord let your will be done in me, your child
In your mercy hold me as the storms rage wild
Let me glory in my weakness where you are made strong
And at the right time, bring me home where I belong

Lord I am suffering, someone I know, and love is suffering. In your merciful love, take this pain away from me, but Your Will Oh Lord My God, not mine. Help me trust in you and rely on your strength because mine has long since failed. There are times when all I can do is weep, because I have no words to speak. Comfort me Lord, let me know your presence and peace even for a moment like the angel in the garden. I know you feel my pain even as your own. I know you weep for me and with me. In times of suffering and when I am facing death, help me remember how much you suffered for my sake. You offered yourself in total surrender to God for the sake of the world. Help me surrender to you.

Lord, I give You my life and all that I am and have, because You gave Your life FOR me and because You GAVE me life. On the cross before You died, you gave me life when You FOR-GAVE.
Amen

There are many ways to fast and many things to fast from. The gospel from Matthew helps to unravel the deeper reason for fasting. One is to give up something pleasurable like eating, drinking, watching TV, or being on the phone in order to bring our minds and hearts to remember Jesus' suffering. We can also recognize how good we have it and that many people have so much less. What little things can we do to help them? By fasting from these things that give us pleasure and satisfaction and take up so much of our time and attention, it allows us to quiet our minds and our hearts to connect with God and hear his soft voice. In fasting from a meal or part of a meal, we can become hungry. This hunger can be a reminder of the time that Jesus was in the desert after his baptism with nothing to eat or drink. In the "Our Father" we ask God to "Give us this day our Daily Bread". God will provide for all of our needs both Physical and Spiritual. Our hunger is physical, but it can also be a reminder of our spiritual hunger and the ways we try to fill the God-shaped holes in our hearts with things that can never truly satisfy. Fasting reminds us of our need for God and helps us to be dependent on Him in everything. We are called to be His children. Should we not, then, depend and rely on Him to be the perfect Father?

Lord, when we fast from things this Lent, open our hearts and minds and in your mercy, reveal to us the deeper value of it. Help us rid ourselves of the distractions in our lives in order to draw us closer to you. And while fasting is good; it alone is not sufficient. In the void of giving something up, help us to do something good, something pleasing to you Oh Lord. May we all "(Finally Find) What We Have Been Looking For". May we all find you!
Amen.

I hide my pretty words
inside a shell.
Safe and far away from
prying eyes –
thoughts and desires, carefully constructed
to never see the light of day, never feel
the warmth of human connection.

For this is all too raw,
too fragile.
Words painfully crafted –
containing the chaos inside.

If people only knew,
what I was hiding,
I’d have to tear open my body,
remove the pearl
for all to see.
My flesh exposed – consumed,
my core, paraded around necks.

And I’d be tossed away
into the waters of my suffering,
to create more precious gems.

At the end, when I am too tired for it all,
clutched by the fingers of grief,
all that shall be left of me –
a shell, forced to adorn
the walls of strangers’ homes.

Just as so many mother of pearls,
who’ve came before me.

That kind of longing you learn once you miss.
Goes by a name only a heart knows how to pronounce,
and doesn’t hesitate to call when you care to listen,
so it absorbs as it unfolds yours every ounce.

Of all the things, it’s absence that can’t be overcome,
a void of crushing torment you have to sustain
alongside hope that one day it will leave.
But that’s like hoping for a night of clear skies
that guides your way home in the middle of the storm.
You might as well sink. As there’s no burden
heavier than the love you can’t give.

I cradle your worries,
your burdens I share,  
yet I carry my own,
a weight hard to bear.
Each word that I offer,
a balm for your pain,  
while I swallow my tears
like a soft summer rain.

With every embrace,
I hide what I feel,  
for the hardest of battles
I fight to conceal.
So if you could see me,
just for a while,  
you’d find in my sorrow
the strength in my smile.

©️Lizzie Bevis

I’ve come to realize that the mind holds immense potential for healing, far more than we often acknowledge. Instead of searching for relief solely in external solutions, I’ve learned to turn inward, recognizing that the tools for managing pain, stress, and anxiety already exist within me. By consciously working with the mind and body, we can shift our experience of suffering and cultivate peace.

The breath is one of the most effective means of doing this. It serves as a direct link to the present, anchoring my awareness in the here and now. Through simple, controlled breathing, I can calm my nervous system and influence my subconscious mind. This process is not only about relaxation; it’s about retraining the mind to respond differently to stress and discomfort. With every mindful breath, I’ve gained a greater sense of control over my emotional and physical states.

Mindfulness is another critical practice. By observing my thoughts and emotions without immediately reacting to them, I’ve developed a new perspective on pain and stress. Rather than seeing these as threats to be resisted, I now view them as signals; indicators that something in me needs attention. Mindfulness allows me to approach these signals with curiosity and compassion, which can reduce their intensity and help me respond more thoughtfully.

In this process, meditation plays a key role. It gives me access to the deeper parts of my subconscious, where my past experiences and emotional patterns are stored. Through regular meditation, I’ve been able to reshape my responses to stress and pain, moving away from automatic reactions that increase suffering. Meditation has taught me that healing is a process of aligning the mind and body toward peace, not by force but through consistent, patient practice.

I no longer feel powerless in the face of external stressors. By focusing on my inner world; my thoughts, my breath, and my awareness; I’ve developed a sense of resilience that isn’t easily shaken by outside circumstances. Healing, I’ve learned, is an ongoing journey. Each day offers a new opportunity to practice these skills, to remind myself that while pain or anxiety may arise, I have the ability to transform how I experience them.

—

Each morning, I rise to greet the day,
Read words of wisdom, to light my way.
With visions clear, and actions aligned,
I center my soul, in peace I find.

Meditation whispers, “Be still, be strong,”
And in the silence, I belong.
Writing my truths, I set them free;
A life of growth, that belongs to me.

Afternoons slow, with a gentle breeze,
Books and thoughts, no need to please.
Turning off screens, I reclaim the hour,
In quiet moments, I find my power.

A podcast hums, a guiding sound,
New ideas grow, deep and profound.
As evening falls, I move and I breathe,
Walking the path where my heart is pleased.

With words once more, I let them flow,
A reflection of where I long to go.
In the stillness, I find my light,
And greet the peace that comes each night.

I promise to hold my routine with care,
To nourish my body, to breathe fresh air.
Move every day, let my muscles sing,
Phone set aside, to let nature ring.

Carry my camera, to capture the skies,
Saving each dollar, with mindful eyes.
Sober, present, embracing the new,
Writing forever, my heart’s truth in view.

In this journey, I grow and unfold,
A story of strength, resilience and bold.

— Sincerely, Boris

The Poet says, “weeping,
may tarry for the night,
but joy comes with the morning.”

I look and see, their weeping.
Listening, I hear their cries.
I offer them hope after their storm,

'It is not for nought, this weeping.
And though it tarries beyond this night,
eternal joy comes with the mourning.'