The Quiet Freedom of Fasting

There’s a surprise mercy in Lent that I didn’t expect:

Fasting can feel like freedom.

Not loud freedom. Not the “I finally got my life together” kind. It’s quiet. Peaceful. What my soul longs for.

When I stop feeding every craving the second it speaks up, I remember I’m not owned by my appetites. I don’t have to obey every impulse, every mood, every urge to soothe, scroll, or control. Fasting slows me down just enough to notice what’s actually driving me.

And in that quieter pace, conversion becomes less of a dramatic moment and more of a daily turning back toward God.

Fasting doesn’t remove the battle.

It reveals what I’m trusting.

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Photo: Personal, Palo Duro Canyon

First Sunday of Lent: The Desert Exposes What I Trust

Readings: Genesis 2:7–9; 3:1–7 • Psalm 51 • Matthew 4:1–11

The first Sunday dropped us into the origin story of distrust and grasping (Genesis 2–3) and then straight into Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1–11).

And the temptations aren’t just about bread. They’re about trust.

• Will you believe the Father will provide, or will you take matters into your own hands?

• Will you worship God, or trade worship for control?

• Will you demand proof, or live by faith?

Scott Hahn reflects on this Sunday as a “tale of two Adams” Adam who reaches, and Jesus (the new Adam) who refuses to grasp, answering temptation with the Word of God.

That’s part of why fasting matters: it’s like a chosen little desert. It reveals the places I don’t want to feel needy, dependent, limited, or out of control.

And it gives me a chance to practice something I forget constantly:

I can be uncomfortable and still be okay.

I can want something and not be ruled by it.

I can trust the Father instead of grasping.

And then Psalm 51 shows up like a mirror. Lent isn’t about shame; it’s about a cleansed heart:

“A clean heart create for me, O God…” (Psalm 51:12)

Photo: Personal, Big Sur, CA

Second Sunday of Lent: The Mountain Teaches Me Who to Listen To

Readings: Genesis 12:1–4a • Psalm 33 • 2 Timothy 1:8b–10 • Matthew 17:1–9

Then the second Sunday lifted us from desert to mountain: Abram obeys God’s call (Genesis 12:1–4a) and Jesus is transfigured (Matthew 17:1–9).

And the center of it all isn’t a method or a feeling.

It’s a voice.

“This is my beloved Son… listen to him.” (Matthew 17:5)

Scott Hahn emphasizes that the Transfiguration isn’t just a spiritual “high.” It’s revelation: Jesus is the One we’re meant to follow, and the Father’s command is simple and direct: listen.

And Fr. Mike’s point here always lands: we often follow God “as long as” it makes sense, “as long as” we understand the why. But faith grows when I can say yes because I know Who I’m following, even when the why isn’t clear.

The Father doesn’t say: “Understand Him.”

He says: “Listen to Him.” (Matthew 17:5)

A point that my priest, Fr. Albert, made this past Sunday has stuck with me: Jesus is not behind us pushing us towards holiness. He is beside us, leading us. That’s why God says to listen to His son.

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Photo, Personal, My home

The Contrast Lent Keeps Putting in Front of Me

When I don’t follow God, I tend to:

• grasp for comfort

• demand control

• negotiate obedience

• fill every quiet space with noise

When I do follow God, I’m learning to:

• wait without panicking

• choose obedience over impulse

• trust the Father’s goodness

• keep my eyes on the Son

That’s the quiet freedom of fasting.

Not because Lent makes life easier, but because it makes space for the Father’s voice, and trains my heart to follow His Son.