Day 26: From Darkness to Sight: Mercy that Heals

Reader:

Scripture Reading:

John 9:1-7, 13-17, 34-38
As Jesus passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him…” He spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes, and said to him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed, and came back able to see…

Reflection:

As we enter this Fourth Sunday of Lent, often called Laetare Sunday, the Church invites us to rejoice—not because the journey is easy, but because hope is dawning. Lenten  It mirrors our own spiritual journey through Lent: from darkness to light, from blindness to vision, from confusion to deeper faith.

Jesus sees the man born blind and heals him, not because of sin, but so that the works of God might be revealed. This is an invitation for us to reflect on the wounds, limitations, or struggles in our own lives that God desires to touch—not as punishment, but as places where His mercy can be made visible. The man didn’t ask to be healed. Jesus took the initiative. That is mercy.

Notice how the man’s healing is not instantaneous. He must go, wash, and return. His physical eyes are opened, but his interior sight continues to grow as he is questioned and rejected. He moves from calling Jesus a man, then a prophet, and finally, he professes, “Lord, I believe.”

The journey of faith often moves in stages. We may begin in darkness—with limited understanding or perhaps spiritual fatigue—but through prayer, sacrament, and humble trust, our vision clarifies. Jesus comes to us, touches our eyes with His grace, and says, “Go, wash.” That washing happens when we let the truth of His Word confront our blindness, when we turn to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and when we allow grace to transform our view of ourselves and others.

St. Augustine reflects on this Gospel by comparing the blind man’s healing to baptism:

“He washed his eyes in the pool of Siloam and came back seeing: so too the sinner, when washed in the water of Christ, begins to see the light of faith.” (Tractates on the Gospel of John, 44.10)

And the Desert Father Abba Isaiah reminds us:

“If you want your soul to see clearly, do not look with your eyes at the faults of others, but examine your own heart in the light of the Gospel.” (Apophthegmata Patrum, Isaiah 5)

These two witnesses—one from the heart of the Western tradition, and one from the wisdom of the desert—both point to the same truth: that sight, healing, and faith come from a deep and personal encounter with Christ. Let us remain open to that encounter.

Today, let us ask: Where am I still blind? What areas of my life need to be touched by Christ’s healing mercy? And do I trust that He is leading me from confusion into clarity, from isolation into communion, from fear into faith?

Reflection Questions:

1. What areas of spiritual blindness still linger in my heart?
2. How have I experienced the mercy of Jesus slowly opening my eyes to truth?
3. What are the steps Jesus is inviting me to take today toward greater clarity and trust?

Closing Prayer:

Lord Jesus, You are the Light of the World. Thank You for seeing us even in our blindness, for touching us with Your mercy, and for leading us into deeper faith. Wash our hearts and open our eyes, that we may see clearly the path You are calling us to walk. Help us to trust You even when the way is unclear, and to rejoice in the vision that only Your grace can give.

Amen.

This reflection is written by Kris McGregor of Discerning Hearts®. The Scripture passage is taken from the Jerusalem Bible (1966 edition), used with permission. No unauthorized use or reproduction is permitted without prior written consent.

Day 25: “The Greatest Commandment”

Reader:

Scripture Reading:
Mark 12:28–34
One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that Jesus answered them well, he asked Him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” Jesus answered, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

Reflection:

Today we return again to the foundation of our faith: love of God and love of neighbor. These aren’t vague concepts or lofty aspirations—they are a way of life, lived out daily in real choices. In a world where division, indifference, and isolation often tempt us to retreat inward, Jesus calls us to open our hearts—to love God with everything we are, and to love our neighbor with compassion, intention, and generosity.

Prayer is essential in helping us discern what this love looks like in real time. Contemplative silence, the Examen, and Scripture reflection are the places where we listen. The sacraments, particularly Reconciliation and the Eucharist, give us the grace to act. But it is in action—in stepping into the messiness of human need—that we live the commandments most fully.

Love takes many forms. It may mean checking in on a lonely neighbor, advocating for someone who has no voice, offering forgiveness in a fractured relationship, or being generous with your time for someone in need. Sometimes it’s choosing to be present to your children or spouse when distractions beckon. Other times, it may be supporting those on the margins: the unhoused, the refugee, the isolated. These everyday actions, when rooted in love, become sacred.

Servants of God Catherine Doherty and Dorothy Day, as well as St. Teresa of Calcutta, lived this so powerfully. Each in their own way entered the suffering of others and made a home for them, whether in the streets, in a Catholic Worker house, or in a soup line. Their lives teach us that holiness is not removed from the world’s pain—it goes straight into it, with mercy and justice in hand.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux reminds us:

“True justice is not only in giving what is due, but in giving what is loving. For mercy, when rightly ordered, is justice perfected.”
(On the Song of Songs, Sermon 11)

And the Desert Father Abba Theodore of Pherme offers this challenge:

“If you are truly a brother, be like a column: others will lean on you.”
(Apophthegmata Patrum, Theodore 1)

Love is not always easy. It stretches us. But it is in this stretching that we are made more like Christ. Lent calls us to return to God with our whole heart and to let that returning bear visible fruit in how we care for others—especially those most in need.

And in the words of the Church’s liturgy, may our Lenten renewal send us forth with the strength to “go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life,” or as we are sometimes reminded, to “go and announce the Gospel of the Lord.” This is not the end of our prayer—it is where our prayer becomes action.

Reflection Questions:

1. In what ways are you being called to return to God with your whole heart?
2. How do justice and mercy play out in your daily relationships?
3. Where can your love grow deeper—toward God, toward others, or even toward yourself?

Closing Prayer:

Lord, You have commanded us to love You with all that we are, and to love our neighbor as ourselves. Help us return to You with sincerity and strength. Cleanse our hearts of anything that divides us from You or from one another. Teach us to live in love that is both just and merciful, and to find joy in serving You in the least of our brothers and sisters.  

Amen.

This reflection is written by Kris McGregor of Discerning Hearts®. The Scripture passage is taken from the Jerusalem Bible (1966 edition), used with permission. No unauthorized use or reproduction is permitted without prior written consent.

Day 24: “Shelter in the Heart of God”

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):

Psalm 91:1–2, 9–16
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”

Because you have made the Lord your refuge, the Most High your dwelling place, no evil shall befall you, no scourge come near your tent. For he will give his angels charge of you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands they will bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the adder, the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.

Because he cleaves to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him my salvation.

Reflection:

After encountering the trials of spiritual battle, today’s psalm offers a tender promise: there is shelter, there is safety, there is a place of rest—in the heart of God.

Psalm 91 is a psalm of deep consolation. It speaks of a God who does not leave us in our fear or abandon us in trial. He invites us to abide in Him, to find refuge in His presence like a weary orphan who has finally found a home. The intimacy and protection He offers is not abstract—it is real, and it meets us in our deepest vulnerability.

This is not just about escape from external dangers. It is about trusting that God is our safe dwelling even when we are beset by inner turmoil: anxiety, temptation, grief, or fear. He places angels around us. He promises to lift us up.

St. Augustine, in his Confessions, reflects on this interior shelter:

“You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. You were with me, but I was not with you.”
(Confessions, Book X)

So much of our spiritual journey is about returning inward, to dwell in God who already dwells within us. And how do we abide in Him? Through prayer, through silence, through the sacraments. By returning again and again to the One who never leaves.

The Desert Fathers often spoke of resting in God even amid storms. Abba Arsenius prayed:

“I have often repented of having spoken, but never of having remained silent.”
(Apophthegmata Patrum, Arsenius 10)

In silence, in prayer, in stillness—we begin to hear the voice of the One who calls us His own. We must make space in our days to return to that quiet center. There we find not only protection, but the healing that prepares us to continue the journey.

Let us dwell today in the shelter of the Most High, remembering that His presence is not just our destination—it is our home.

Reflection Questions:

1. Where do I seek shelter when I feel overwhelmed or afraid? Is it in God, or in lesser comforts?
2. How can I make space today to rest in the presence of God through prayer or silence?
3. What does it mean to you to be guarded, lifted, and honored by God?

Closing Prayer:

Lord, You are my refuge and my dwelling place. In You alone my soul finds rest. Draw me into the shadow of Your wings, that I may find shelter from every storm. Let me know the security of Your love and the peace that surpasses all understanding. Teach me to return to You in stillness and trust, and make my heart a home for Your presence.

Amen.

Day 23: “The Battle Within”

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):
Luke 11:14–23
Jesus was casting out a devil and it was dumb; but when the devil had gone out the dumb man spoke, and the people were amazed. But some of them said, ‘It is through Beelzebul, the prince of devils, that he casts out devils.’ Others asked him, as a test, for a sign from heaven; but, knowing what they were thinking, he said to them, ‘Every kingdom divided against itself is heading for ruin, and a household divided against itself collapses. So too with Satan: if he is divided against himself, how can his kingdom stand? – since you assert that it is through Beelzebul that I cast out devils. Now if it is through Beelzebul that I cast out devils, through whom do your own experts cast them out? Let them be your judges then. But if it is through the finger of God that I cast out devils, then know that the kingdom of God has overtaken you. So long as a strong man fully armed guards his own palace, his goods are undisturbed; but when someone stronger than he is attacks and defeats him, the stronger man takes away all the weapons he relied on and shares out his spoil.

  ‘He who is not with me is against me; and he who does not gather with me scatters.’

Reflection:

By this point in our Lenten journey, we may have begun to taste the fruits of prayer, self-awareness, and even forgiveness. But with every step toward healing and holiness, we also encounter resistance. The enemy does not want us to grow in love. The more we open ourselves to grace, the more temptation may rise—whispers of accusation, discouragement, or the old lies that once held us captive.

Today’s Gospel makes this dynamic visible. Jesus casts out a demon and restores speech to the mute man—but some in the crowd twist this act of mercy, accusing Him of using the devil’s power. Jesus responds by exposing the contradiction: evil cannot cast out evil. And He offers a deeper truth—that it is by the “finger of God” that He heals and frees.

The real battle, Jesus teaches, is not merely external but within our hearts. We all have “strongholds”—areas where fear, sin, or pride have taken root. And like the strong man guarding his palace, we may have learned to defend ourselves with coping mechanisms or self-reliance. But Jesus is not a rival; He is the Redeemer. He comes not to take from us, but to rescue us, to reclaim us for the Kingdom of God.

St. Gregory the Great, a Benedictine and Doctor of the Church, affirms this spiritual reality:

“When we open our hearts to Christ, the darkness cannot remain. The devil flees not from words, but from the presence of God within.”
(Homilies on the Gospels, Homily 16)

The Desert Fathers, too, understood that the struggle is often inward and lifelong. Abba Anthony the Great offered a striking insight:
“Whoever has not experienced temptation cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Without temptations, no one can be saved.”
(Apophthegmata Patrum, Anthony 1)

At first, these words may seem startling, especially if we are unfamiliar with the depth of monastic teaching. But they reveal a profound truth: temptation is not a sign that we have failed—it is part of the path to holiness. The spiritual life isn’t about avoiding the battle; it’s about recognizing that, through grace, we can engage it with Christ. Temptation becomes the arena in which we grow in humility, perseverance, and trust in God. Without the struggle, we might never know our need for Him—or the depth of His strength within us.

St. Teresa of Ávila, too, reminds us that the real battleground is interior:

“The devil fears a soul united to God as he does God Himself.”
(Interior Castle, Fifth Mansion)

Temptation is not a sign of failure but of progress. It shows that the enemy is threatened. It is precisely through temptation—and through choosing Christ again and again—that we are strengthened in love.

We resist evil not by white-knuckled effort alone but by drawing close to Christ through spiritual practices: regular prayer—especially the Examen—times of contemplative silence, reflection on Scripture, and the grace received in the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist and Reconciliation. These practices deepen our union with Jesus, who alone can disarm the lies of the enemy and bring freedom.

Each time we feel tempted to give in to discouragement, division, or despair, let us remember that we are not fighting alone. Christ is with us. He is the one who sets us free.

Reflection Questions:

1. Where in your life do you feel spiritual resistance or inner division?
2. What lies have you believed about yourself, and how might Jesus be inviting you to renounce them?
3. Which practices—prayer, silence, sacraments—help you stand firm in Christ when the battle gets difficult?

Closing Prayer:

Lord Jesus, You have overcome the darkness. Enter the places in our lives where fear, discouragement, or sin still hold power. With the finger of God, cast out all that is not of You. Draw us into Your peace and make ourhearts whole. Give us strength to endure in prayer, wisdom to recognize the lies of the enemy, and courage to stay close to You. In You alone is our safety, our victory, and our home. Amen.

Day 22: “The Law of Love”

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):

Matthew 22:37-40
“Jesus said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’”

Reflection:

Jesus distills the entire law and prophetic tradition into two commandments: to love God and to love our neighbor. At the heart of the Christian life is this law of love—simple in words, yet profound and demanding in practice.

In the Scriptures and the Christian tradition, we see that love is not a single concept but a reality with many expressions. The New Testament, written in Greek, refers to several kinds of love: philia (brotherly affection), eros(romantic or passionate love), and agape—a self-giving, sacrificial love that wills the good of the other, even when it costs us. It is this agape love that Christ speaks of and models most fully on the Cross.

Agape is not about liking someone or feeling warmth in their presence. It is not contingent on emotion. It is an act of the will—a deliberate choice to love even when we are tired, wounded, or feel nothing at all. This is why Jesus can command love: not as sentiment, but as decision.

St. Thomas Aquinas writes:
“To love is to will the good of the other.” (Summa Theologiae, I-II, q.26, a.4)

This understanding liberates us from the tyranny of our emotions. We may not always feel loving, but we can choose to love by being patient, forgiving, and generous, especially with those who challenge us most.

The Desert Fathers lived this love in the silence of the desert, but not in isolation. They knew that loving others—even the difficult ones—was the clearest path to God. Abba Dorotheus of Gaza taught:
“The closer we come to our neighbor, the closer we come to God.”
(Apophthegmata Patrum, Dorotheus 2)

And St. John of the Cross, in his mystical depth, offers this piercing reminder:
“In the evening of life, we will be judged on love alone.” (Sayings of Light and Love, 59)

When we are hurt or weary, when love feels far from our grasp, it helps to remember: God never asks of us what He does not give the grace to fulfill. If Christ calls us to love—even enemies—it is because He Himself will sustain us in that call.

As we pray today, let us not be discouraged by the difficulty of love, but strengthened in the knowledge that it is in loving—especially when it is hard—that we become most like Christ.

Reflection Questions:

1. In what situations do I find it hardest to love, and how can I choose love as an act of the will in those moments?

2. What is one concrete way I can show agape love to someone in my life today?

3. How can I ask God to help me grow in this self-giving love, especially in prayer?

Closing Prayer:

Lord Jesus, You have shown us the perfection of love in laying down Your life. Teach us to love not just in feeling, but in will—choosing always what is good and true, even when it costs us. May our love for You be visible in how we love others, and may this love become a reflection of Your heart in the world. Amen.

Day 21: “Faithfulness in the Little Things”

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):

Luke 16:10
“Whoever is faithful in very little is also faithful in much, and whoever is dishonest in very little is also dishonest in much.”

Reflection:

Faithfulness in the little things prepares us for faithfulness in greater things. Jesus reminds us that holiness is not found only in grand gestures but in the small, often unseen acts of love and obedience. The spiritual life is built in the hidden moments of daily perseverance—choosing to trust, to serve, to remain steadfast in prayer even when we feel nothing.

Lent is a time when we are invited to examine our small, daily choices. Are we faithful in the way we speak to others? Do we show patience in moments of frustration? Do we bring our hearts to prayer, even when it feels dry? Holiness is not about feeling spiritual—it is about remaining faithful.

The Desert Fathers understood this well. Abba Dorotheus taught:
“Do not seek to do great things. Do the small things with great love, and God will entrust you with more.” (Discourses and Sayings, Dorotheus of Gaza)

Similarly, St. Thérèse of Lisieux, known for her “Little Way,” reminds us:
“God does not look at the greatness of our works, but at the love with which they are done.”

Faithfulness in small things teaches us to trust God even when we do not see immediate fruit. Just as a seed must be planted and watered before it grows, our small acts of perseverance prepare our souls for deeper transformation.

As we reflect today, let us ask: Where is God calling me to greater faithfulness in the small things? How can I embrace perseverance in prayer and trust, even when I do not see results right away?

Reflection Questions:

1. Where in my daily life can I grow in faithfulness?
2. How can I remain steadfast in prayer, even when I feel nothing?
3. How does trusting God in small things prepare me for greater challenges?
4. What small acts of love can I offer today as a path to holiness?

Closing Prayer:

Lord, You call us to be faithful in the little things, trusting that You are at work even when we do not see it. Teach us to persevere, to pray with faith, and to love in the small moments of daily life. May our hidden acts of love bear fruit in Your time. Amen.

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):

Matthew 18:21-22
“Then Peter came and said to Him, ‘Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.’”

Reflection:

Forgiveness is at the heart of the Gospel, yet it is one of the most challenging commands to live out. When Peter asks Jesus about the limits of forgiveness, Jesus responds with a number that signifies boundlessness: “Seventy-seven times.” In other words, forgiveness is not something we can measure or ration; it must flow freely, just as God’s forgiveness flows freely to us.

This kind of forgiveness is only possible when we recognize how deeply we have been forgiven by God. It is through God’s mercy that our hearts are softened and made capable of forgiving others. Forgiveness does not mean excusing sin or forgetting the hurt; rather, it is a decision to let go of resentment and to entrust justice to God.

The Desert Fathers taught the importance of forgiveness as a path to spiritual freedom. Abba Joseph said:

“If you want to find rest here and hereafter, in every trial say, ‘Who am I?’ and do not judge others.” (Apophthegmata Patrum, Alphabetical Collection, Joseph 3)

Similarly, St. John Chrysostom, one of the greatest preachers of the early Church, reminds us:

“Nothing causes us to resemble God more than our willingness to forgive.”

Forgiveness transforms not only the person who forgives but also the community. It opens the door to healing and reconciliation. As we reflect today, let us ask: How can we embrace Jesus’ call to forgive without limits? Who in our lives are we being called to forgive?

Reflection Questions:

1. Are there any hurts or grudges that you are holding onto? How can you begin to release them?
2. How does God’s forgiveness of your sins inspire you to forgive others?
3. What steps can you take to foster reconciliation in your relationships?

Closing Prayer:

Lord, You teach us to forgive not just seven times, but seventy-seven times. Help us to let go of resentment and to entrust justice to You. Fill our hearts with Your mercy, so that we may forgive those who have hurt us and seek reconciliation with those we have wronged. May our lives reflect Your boundless love and mercy.

Amen.

Day 19: “Thirsting for God: The Call to Prayer and Renewal”

Scripture Reading (Jerusalem Bible):

John 4:13-14
“Jesus said to her, ‘Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.’”

Reflection:

The Samaritan woman came to the well for ordinary water, but she left with something far greater—an encounter with Christ that changed her forever. This Gospel reminds us that all of us thirst—not just physically, but spiritually. We thirst for meaning, for love, for peace, and for healing. Jesus meets us in that thirst and invites us deeper, offering living water—the gift of His presence that alone can satisfy the soul.

Lent is a time of spiritual renewal, a season where we recognize the wells we have drawn from that do not satisfy. It is easy to look for fulfillment in the world, in busyness, distractions, or fleeting pleasures, only to find ourselves empty again. But Christ calls us to something more: to drink deeply from the well of prayer, silence, and communion with Him.

The Desert Fathers saw thirst for God as the heart of prayer. Abba Longinus said:

“Give your heart to prayer, and your soul will be filled with living water.” (Apophthegmata Patrum, Longinus 3)

Just as the Samaritan woman had to let go of her past and receive Christ’s invitation, so too are we called to let go of distractions and make space for God in prayer. Lent is not only about sacrifice but about making room for the One who alone can satisfy our hearts.

The more we drink of this living water—through prayer, contemplation, and surrender—the more we become transformed. St. Augustine recognized this longing when he wrote:

“You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” (Confessions, 1.1)

Like the Samaritan woman, Christ does not force us to drink—He invites. He waits patiently, offering us something far greater than what we came seeking. Will we let go of lesser things to receive Him fully?

As we reflect today, let us ask: What are the empty wells we keep returning to? Where is Christ calling us to deeper prayer and renewal? How can we allow His living water to transform us?

Reflection Questions:

1. What are the things I turn to when I feel empty or restless? Are they truly satisfying?
2. How can I deepen my relationship with Christ through prayer and contemplation?
3. Like the Samaritan woman, what is Christ asking me to leave behind so that I can fully receive His gift of living water?
4. Where is God calling me to renewal in my spiritual life this Lent?

Closing Prayer:

Lord Jesus, You are the source of living water. Help me to turn away from the things that do not satisfy and seek You with my whole heart. Teach me to sit with You in silence, to drink deeply from Your presence, and to be transformed by Your love. Renew my spirit this Lent and draw me closer to You, the wellspring of life.

Amen.