Lent, the Cross, and a Marriage Reset: A Season of Revival

Lent is here, but this isn’t some “give up chocolate and feel holy” routine. No, this season is different. It’s not about depriving myself of something small—it’s about diving deep into revival. For my spirit. For my mind. And yes, for my marriage. This isn’t about doing the same old, same old. This is a season where everything feels like it’s on the table, and there’s no escaping the work that needs to be done.

This is my favorite time of year, not because of the fasting or church services, but because Lent is raw. It strips me down. It forces me to face the parts of myself I’d rather keep buried—the messy, uncomfortable, hidden parts that I don’t want to look at. But there’s no running from the cross. You can’t stand before the raw, unfiltered truth of the cross and keep your guard up. There’s no pretending anymore.

Jesus didn’t step into His suffering with hesitation. He didn’t hold back. He didn’t tiptoe through betrayal, mockery, pain, and death. No. He walked straight into it, like He’d been waiting for this moment, like He knew it was the road He was born to walk. Every lash. Every spit. Every ounce of pain. He chose it. He didn’t run. He didn’t look for an escape. He kept walking because the cross wasn’t the end—it was the beginning of something bigger. For me. For you. For us.

Jesus’ Road to the Cross: The Ultimate Act of Love

Lent is not about cowering in self-pity. It’s about embracing purpose. Jesus didn’t stumble into His suffering by accident. He didn’t blindly follow some vague path of destiny. No, He chose it. He chose every step, knowing exactly what awaited Him. Every betrayal. Every rejection. Every moment of suffering. He knew, and He still walked straight into it.

Imagine this: you know your friends will abandon you. One will sell you out for a handful of coins. Another will deny you three times, and the others will scatter when things get real. You know you’ll be arrested, falsely accused, and dragged through a mock trial. You know the verdict will already be decided: guilty. You’ll be mocked, whipped until your skin is shredded, and a crown of thorns will be jammed into your skull. They’ll force you to carry a splintered cross on your raw back, dragging you through the streets until they finally nail you to it.

And yet, you don’t fight back. You don’t run. You don’t look for an escape. You keep walking. Because you know why you’re doing it. You know that this pain, this suffering, this death isn’t the end—it’s the beginning of new life. That’s love. That’s radical, unrelenting, sacrificial love. And Lent is the season where we stand in awe of that love, letting it break us wide open.

The Husband Factor (AKA: Why I’m Extra Blessed This Lent)

And then there’s my husband. The one who’s walking this road with me. The one who’s stepping into this season with a heart open, ready to meet the challenges ahead, knowing it won’t be easy. I’m honestly humbled.

We’ve been down the therapy road before. Sat on couches, talked about our issues, tried to "fix" things, but it was forced. Empty. Because, truth be told, I wasn’t ready. I was running on empty, avoiding the work that needed to be done. I was dodging the hard conversations like they were landmines, hoping somehow things would magically heal themselves. Spoiler alert: they didn’t.

But this? This feels different. This season, we’re doing the work. Together. It’s not about just sitting in a room and talking through our issues—it’s about stepping into something real, something raw. We’re diving into Lent together, with no guarantees. And if that’s not intense enough, we’ve signed up for a faith-based marriage retreat. A weekend where we’re unplugging, going deep, and facing the hardest truths about ourselves, our marriage, and our future together. No surface-level talk. No escaping the hard stuff. I’m ready for it. And I can tell he is, too.

Lent, But Make It a Glow-Up

Lent isn’t about giving up something that doesn’t really matter. It’s about transforming everything that does. Here’s how I’m making this season hit different:

🔥 Reviving My Spirit – It’s time to stop numbing myself with distractions. No more scrolling through my phone, avoiding the silence. No more pretending I’m “too busy” to spend time with God. This season, I’m choosing to sit in the depth of His sacrifice. To feel the weight of it. To reflect on the sacredness of the cross, so I can fully embrace the joy of His resurrection.

🔥 Reviving My Marriage – This isn’t about skimming the surface. It’s not about coasting and pretending everything’s okay when it’s not. It’s about leaning in—into the hard conversations, into the growth, into the uncomfortable work that real love requires. I’m done with autopilot. I’m ready to show up, not just for the good days, but for the grind. If Jesus could carry the weight of the world for love, then I can carry my share of the work in this marriage.

🔥 Reviving My Mindset – I’m tired of dragging around old baggage like it’s a fashion statement. Jesus walked to the cross with purpose and clarity. He knew exactly what He was fighting for, and He didn’t flinch. I want that same mindset. I want to leave this season with a sense of focus—a mind that’s ready to fight for what matters and step into the future with clarity and strength.

🔥 Reviving My Trust in the Process – Jesus didn’t question His path. He didn’t wonder if it was worth it. He trusted the process. And on the other side of that pain, on the other side of that excruciating suffering, came the greatest victory of all. I need to trust that same process. I need to trust that this season, as hard as it may be, is leading somewhere bigger than I can see right now. Somewhere better. Somewhere glorious.

This is 40 days of real work. Of breaking down to rebuild. Of embracing the grind. If Jesus could carry the weight of the world for love, then I can carry my part in this season of transformation.

Let the revival begin.