Lent is often described as a season of sacrifice and reflection, but this year it feels like a season of returning—returning to myself, to my faith, and to the God who has been quietly waiting for me in the places I once avoided. Everything I’ve touched this week—Girls Infused planning, podcast writing, truth‑telling conversations, spiritual reflection, and the deep emotional work that keeps surfacing—has felt like part of a larger invitation. An invitation to slow down, to listen, and to let God meet me exactly where I am.

This season is showing me that the wilderness isn’t a place of punishment. It’s a place of preparation. It’s where the noise falls away and the truth rises to the surface. And truth has been the heartbeat of my entire week. Telling the truth about my story. Telling the truth about my healing. Telling the truth about what I need, what I fear, and what I’m finally ready to release. Truth‑telling isn’t just emotional work—it’s spiritual work. It’s the moment the tomb cracks open. It’s the moment the light gets in.

It’s the moment God whispers, “This is where resurrection begins.”

As I move through Lent, I’m becoming more aware of the woman I’ve grown into and the woman I’m still becoming. A trauma‑conscious life coach. A mother. A living kidney donor. A woman in recovery. A creator of pathways for girls and women to rise. A storyteller. A spiritual seeker. A guide. A survivor who refuses to stay buried. This season is reminding me that becoming isn’t a destination—it’s a devotion. It’s the daily choice to show up with honesty, humility, and hope.

Lent is teaching me that healing is holy, that truth is a form of worship, that silence is an invitation, and that God meets us in the wilderness long before we find our way out. It’s teaching me that the work I do with women and girls isn’t separate from my faith—it’s an extension of it. And it’s teaching me that resurrection isn’t a single moment. It’s a rhythm. A rising and rising and rising again.

As I continue through this season, I’m choosing to walk with intention—to listen more deeply, speak more honestly, create more boldly, trust more fully, and surrender more gently. Lent isn’t about perfection. It’s about presence. And this year, I feel God’s presence in every corner of my life—my work, my writing, my motherhood, my leadership, my healing, and the quiet places inside me that are finally ready to be seen.