March 1, 2026
As I look at our world today and reflect upon this third week of lent, I honestly have nothing. I’ve attempted to find some inspiration for this time of year, but have found nothing. I’ve contemplated kenosis and I’ve thought of the rarity of both Lent and Ramadan starting at the same time. I’ve also contemplated the current mess that my home country finds itself in under the current leadership, but I’ve not found anything that makes me want to write about this most sacred time of year. Maybe it’s because at this point in my own journey I feel as though I am in my own wilderness. After years of beautiful community and involvement with amazing people I feel mostly alone. I have my wife and my mom , but we have no real community to speak of, no church, no friends, just work and taking care of my mom. This lent finds me in my own wilderness, both figuratively and literally, I’m not complaining, I’m just explaining why lent is holding so little for me to reflect on this year. I understand my situation is not nearly as bad as the migrant family that is living in fear of ICE, or the Palestinian’s Ukrainians and Sudanese who have lost everything. But to assume that all suffering in the world ceased when Jesus spent those 40 days in the wilderness is unrealistic.
Our personal wilderness experiences are real in our lives and do not negate the suffering of a world in turmoil, but they are real to us. One thing I’ve noticed of late is that everyone is struggling, that everyone is tired and worn down by the state of our world and by extension our own lives. Our little Order can hardly make a dent on the suffering of our world, but each of us can touch lives that are in the wilderness right outside our front doors , in our own homes, and in our Franciscan community.
Our world is on fire but, we can only fight the fires closest to us. Maybe this reflection is mostly for me, maybe I’m too inwardly focused, maybe it’s a reminder for me that over intellectualizing and posturing on national and global events means very little if I step over the person suffering outside my front door or in my home regardless of their politics or social status.
It’s a big hurting world that can only be helped in small ways, whether it’s embracing a leper like Francis, or giving a cup of water, or accepting the outcast we can the world a little better every day.
May your Lent be the change you hope for.
Your Servant Council
Juniper, Shoshanah, Markie, Neal, and Kelly