The world is full of shortcuts—distractions dressed up as solutions.
Quick fixes for discomfort.
Fast answers for deeper questions.
Validation at the tap of a screen.

We quench our thirst with what is easy.
I reach for Instagram. Others reach for achievement, applause, or distraction.
We look for shortcuts to knowledge, wisdom, even success—outsourcing the slow work of becoming.

Even in church, we can try to manufacture something real.
The right music, the right lighting, the right atmosphere—
as if God’s presence can be arranged on a schedule.

But seeking God in truth is not instant.
It is slow.
It is hidden.
It is often hard.

To really study His word takes effort.
To really live in community takes sacrifice—patience, forgiveness, showing up again and again with imperfect people trying to follow a perfect God.

And yet, we are so drawn to what is quick.
To easy answers.
To platforms that let us be seen and affirmed.

But waiting on God?
Persevering in prayer?
Listening for the Holy Spirit?

There is no applause for that.
No immediate reward.
Just the quiet, stretching work of faith.

Lent was not the transformation I had hoped for.
I didn’t meet God every day the way I intended.
I didn’t always resist the pull of the screen.
I mostly just gave up caffeine.

Some days were better than others.
Some moments felt faithful.
Many did not.

And yet—God was there.

Gently reminding me:
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” (Matthew 5:6)

Maybe Lent is not about dramatic transformation.
Maybe it is about learning to stay.
To sit in discomfort a little longer.
To take up your cross—not a light bag, but something weighty. Something real.

To keep going, “throwing off everything that hinders… and running with perseverance the race marked out for us.” (Hebrews 12:1)

To choose the harder thing in small ways—
waking early, saying no, resisting ease,
even standing in the longer queue.

To practice hunger.
To practice waiting.

Jesus endured forty days of temptation.
I struggle after three hours.

And still—
the Lord is good.

“Know that the Lord is God. It is He who made us, and we are His.” (Psalm 100:3)

And perhaps this is where transformation begins:
not in success,
but in returning at the foot of the cross.