At Mass yesterday, a thought hit me: our prayers can be empty. Hollow.
What I mean is this: you can be kneeling, head down, eyes closed, mouth moving, saying the prayers—but if your heart is not in the prayer, it’s empty.
I won’t say it’s meaningless. I don’t think that’s my place to judge that.
But I will say we’re not approaching the Lord completely.
We can think of the commandment to love God with your whole heart, with your whole strength, with your whole mind.
There’s a way to pray that does not live up to that.
As we begin and continue our Lenten journey, I think it’s important to not let Lent itself be empty and hollow.
We can go through the motions. We can say our prayers. We can do this discipline and that discipline. Those are good things—obviously necessary.
But the trap is letting Lent pass by without our heart being in it. Without offering our heart to the Lord in those prayers. In those fastings. In those almsgivings.
The form is there. The action is there. But if the heart isn’t there, it’s hollow.
The Lord doesn’t just want our actions. He wants our hearts.
So as we walk through Lent, the question isn’t just “What am I giving up?” or “What am I taking on?”
The question is: “Am I giving the Lord my whole heart in this?”
That’s what makes Lent fruitful. Not the list of practices. But the heart behind them.
Let us pray.
Lord, help us pray with our whole heart, fast with our whole heart, give with our whole heart. Make us present to You in every prayer, every sacrifice, every act of love. In Jesus’ name. Amen.
Keep fighting the good fight. Our Lady of Victory, pray for us.
