Walking The Lenten Garden
Ash Wednesday
These reflections grow out of simple moments in the garden during the season of Lent. In the quiet rhythms of creation, we are reminded to slow down, to notice what is before us, and to listen for the gentle presence of God.
This year, Lent comes to me quietly.
The days are getting longer.
The air feels a little softer.
And the garden—still mostly bare—is beginning to wake up.
Standing here, noticing all of it, I realize this is how Lent speaks to me.
Lent has never felt like something to rush through. For me, it has always felt more like a walk. Not a march. Not a checklist. A walk—slow enough to notice where the path narrows, where it opens, where the ground feels uneven underfoot, and where something unexpectedly beautiful is growing along the edge.
That is why I chose a garden for this season.
Gardens teach us what faith has been trying to teach us all along. Nothing grows on demand. Nothing blooms all at once. Some things need pruning. Some things need patience. And some things look completely lifeless for a long time—before they surprise us.
When you enter a garden, you don’t control it.
You listen.
You watch.
You learn its rhythm.
You pay attention.
And slowly, something in you begins to change.
If you think about it, faith has always walked this way. When God wants to speak to the human heart, He goes back to the soil—to gardens and fields and seeds. Eden. Vineyards. Fig trees. Wheat and weeds. Even the Resurrection is first revealed in what looks like a garden. This is not accidental. Faith has always been lived close to the ground.
So this Lent, there is no rushing toward Easter—just walking the paths.
Noticing what in our lives needs tending.
What needs rest.
What may need to be cut back.
And what needs to be placed back into God’s hands instead of held tightly in our own.
Some days the garden will be quiet.
Some days it will speak clearly.
Both are part of the journey, and both belong here.
I think of this as my walk becoming our walk. I’ll share what I notice along the way. You’ll notice your own things too. And together, we’ll practice listening.
There’s no pressure here. No perfect pace. Just a shared path—opening God’s Word softly, and letting daily life meet grace gently.
Ash Wednesday reminds us that we come from the earth- a garden. And God is never finished with what He has made—bringing life where we thought nothing could grow.
When you’re ready, the garden is open.
Continue Walking The Lenten Garden
The Lenten Rose – First Sunday Lent