Building a relationship with God during Lent season

By JLyn Perez Published: Feb. 22,2026

When the world pauses at the same time

While scrolling through the news yesterday, a headline stopped me in my tracks: several major faith traditions had holy days landing on the calendar at the same time. Writers called it “rare,” counted centuries, and treated it like a cosmic coincidence.

But what hit me wasn’t the math, it was the humanity.

Across neighborhoods, nations, kitchens, temples, churches, and quiet bedrooms where people pray when nobody’s watching—millions upon millions were gathering, fasting, reflecting, and trying (in their own ways) to reach for something beyond themselves. That’s not a “fun fact.” That’s a spiritual moment worth noticing.

And it made me ask a blunt question: If the world is this hungry for God, why are we so quick to fill the ache with noise instead of truth?

Lent has a way of clearing the fog. It doesn’t flatter you. It doesn’t entertain you. It invites you to sit still long enough to remember what we’ve been trying to forget.

Lent reminded me what I used to treat like “basic”

I’ve known John 3:16 for years. Most people have heard it, even if they don’t know where it comes from: “For God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believed in him shall not perish but have eternal life ” (John 3:16)

But Lent made me slow down and actually feel the weight of it—like reading a familiar sentence and realizing it’s been holding up your whole life.

Because here’s the thing: God’s love isn’t sentimental. It’s costly.

The verse isn’t saying, “Humans are awesome, so God rewarded us.” It’s saying the opposite: we were headed for destruction, and God stepped in with rescue. That’s why John 3:15 matters right next to it—because the promise of eternal life is tied to belief in the One who was lifted up for us. (John 3:15–16)

Let’s say it plainly:

• We are not naturally “good enough.” We’re bent toward selfishness even when we behave politely. (Romans 3:23)

• God’s love doesn’t shrink when ours does. Ours is limited. His is covenant-deep. (1 John 4:9–10)

• Jesus didn’t come to applaud us. He came to save us. (Luke 19:10)

That’s what Lent keeps dragging into the light: Not the "Try harder.” But the “Come back.”

“How could this be real?” — the question that won’t go away

It’s still wild to me that people can look at the death and resurrection of Jesus and shrug as if it’s a myth you outgrow—like a childhood story you trade in for “grown-up thinking.”

But history isn’t built on vibes. People gave their lives for what they claimed to have witnessed, not for a cute metaphor. And more than that, the gospel itself isn’t written like a fairy tale—it’s written with names, places, grief, fear, and shock. The disciples weren’t expecting a resurrection; they were broken and terrified. And then something happened that turned cowards into proclaimers.

If you’re skeptical, I get it. Be skeptical. But be fair. Don’t dismiss it with a lazy wave of the hand. Actually read the accounts. Sit with them. Lent is a perfect time to do that.

The gospel in one sweeping story

Here is the thread that runs through Scripture like fire through a dark forest:

God knew us before we knew ourselves. (Psalm 139:13–16)

He created with purpose, beauty, and order. (Genesis 1:27–31)

We rebelled—and the world was fractured. (Genesis 3:1–19)

But God promised to rescue us, He id not abandon us. (Genesis 3:15)

Jesus came exactly as foretold—a suffering Savior, not an earthly king. (Isaiah 53:4–6)

He preached the Kingdom, healed, delivered, and confronted hypocrisy with holy courage. (Matthew 4:23; John 7:46)

He called Himself the Bread of Life and Living Water—meaning He is our life. (John 6:35; John 4:14)

He was condemned, crucified, buried… the stone at the tomb didn’t get the final word. (Luke 23–24; Matthew 28:6)

He ascended—and promised He will return. (Acts 1:9–11; John 14:1–3)

This is not a “seasonal message.” This is the center of reality.

A Lent invitation: pray bigger than your own life

During Lent, we fast from things that dull us so we can hunger for what saves us.

This is a season in which we are recommended to read, pray and reflect.

So here’s my simple invitation:

Let’s pray for a world that doesn’t just “respect” Jesus, but surrenders to Him.

Let’s pray we won’t get hypnotized by the outrage cycle, the anxiety scroll, the constant distraction.

Let’s pray that when Christ returns, we’re not caught mid-noise—empty, entertained, and asleep.

Let’s pray that we become a people who can say, without pretending:“Lord, I believe—help my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)

Bible passages to read during Lent

Read one section a day, reflect on it, pray over it.

1. John 3:15–17 — the love that rescues

2. Isaiah 53:4–6 — the suffering Savior foretold

3. Romans 5:6–8 — love shown “while we were still sinners”

4. Luke 23:32–49 — the crucifixion account

5. Luke 24:1–12 — the resurrection morning

6. 2 Corinthians 5:17–21 — new life, clean slate, real reconciliation

7. Hebrews 12:1–2 — how to endure with eyes on Jesus

8. Psalm 51 — repentance that’s honest, not performative

9. John 6:35 — Jesus as Bread of Life

10. Revelation 21:1–5 — the ending God promised (and it’s not bleak)

Reflection to follow

Take 10 quiet minutes, time between you and God.

1. What have I been using as “comfort” that actually keeps me spiritually numb?

2. Where have I made peace with sin instead of fighting it?

3. Do I believe God’s love is for me—or do I treat it like it’s for “better people”?

4. If Jesus returned today, what would I be ashamed to be caught clinging to?

5. What would it look like for my home to feel more like a place of peace than pressure?

6. What is one act of obedience I’ve delayed because it’s inconvenient?

7. What is one thing I can fast from this week that would create space for prayer?

8. Who do I need to forgive—or ask forgiveness from—before bitterness roots deeper?

Prayer

Dear Heavenly Father-

I come to you singing praises for being a God of Love, a God of wonder and grace.

Please remove what is fake in me—without crushing what is tender. I confess I get distracted easily. I confess I chase comfort more than holiness. Forgive me for treating Your sacrifice like background noise.

Thank You for loving me when I was not lovable, for paying a price I could never pay,and for offering eternal life not as a reward for perfection, but as a gift of grace.Teach me to hunger for You more than I hunger for control, approval, and temporary relief.

During this season, strengthen my spirit. Help me fast with sincerity—not to perform, but to return. Make my heart soft again. Make my faith brave again. Unify Your people in truth, and draw the lost with mercy and power.

Keep me from the noise of the world. Anchor me in Your Word. And when You come again, let me be found awake—ready, grateful, and worshiping.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen