By week three I was uncomfortable. By week five I was genuinely changed. Not dramatically — not in a way anyone around me would notice. But inside, something had shifted. Quietly. The way light shifts in a room when a cloud moves 🕊️

I think that's exactly what the forty days are for. Not punishment. Not performance. A slow, deliberate clearing. Like opening windows in a room that's been closed all winter.

Scripture doesn't call us to suffer for the sake of suffering. It calls us to empty ourselves so there's room for something better. And I felt that this year in a way I honestly hadn't before 💛

Easter Sunday landed differently because of it. The "Alleluia" in church — I cried. Not sadly. Just from the feeling of something completing itself.

I want to remember this feeling when December comes and everything gets loud and commercial and busy again. I want to remember that silence has a purpose. That emptying yourself is actually the bravest thing

Maria