So every year around late February, I find myself Googling some version of “how to celebrate Lent” like I’ve never done this before. You’d think by now I’d have a system. A spreadsheet. A laminated spiritual game plan.
Nope.
It usually starts like this:
Me, holding a donut.
Me, remembering Lent is tomorrow.
Me, dramatically finishing the donut like it’s the last dessert on earth.
And then Ash Wednesday shows up and I’m like, “Alright, let’s try to be holy for 40 days.” Which sounds noble. And slightly unrealistic.
If you’ve ever wondered how to celebrate Lent without turning it into a weird spiritual diet challenge… yeah. Same.
So here are 10 Lenten spiritual practices I’ve tried (some successfully, some… not so much), and how they’ve actually shaped me.
Messy. Honest. Real life.
1. Give Something Up — But Make It Personal
Yes, we’re starting here. The classic.
When people ask how to celebrate Lent, this is usually the first thing that comes up: What are you giving up?
Chocolate? Social media? Coffee? (Bold. Slightly unhinged.)
One year I gave up complaining.
Let me tell you — that one exposed me FAST.
By 10 a.m. I had already internally complained about traffic, my inbox, and the fact that my grocery store rearranged everything again. (Why do they do that??)
Giving something up isn’t about proving you’re disciplined. It’s about noticing what you lean on. What controls you.
If Instagram owns your soul at 11:43 p.m., maybe that’s your thing.
If sarcasm is your love language (hi, me), maybe that’s the one.
It should sting a little. Not destroy you. Just… nudge you.
2. Add Something Instead of Subtracting
Here’s the twist nobody talks about enough.
Sometimes the better answer to how to celebrate Lent isn’t “What should I give up?” but “What should I add?”
One year, instead of subtracting sugar (which I love deeply), I added 10 minutes of silence every morning.
Just 10.
Do you know how loud silence can be?
My brain was like:
“Remember that awkward thing you said in 2017?”
“Did you reply to that email?”
“What’s for dinner?”
It was chaos.
But slowly — slowly — it became grounding.
Maybe you add:
- Daily gratitude journaling
- A short morning prayer
- Reading one Psalm a day
- A walk without headphones
Not glamorous. But powerful.
3. Try Christian Fasting (In a Realistic Way)
Okay, let’s talk about fasting.
When I first read about Christian fasting and prayer, I pictured desert monks. Intense. Holy. Slightly intimidating.
I live in suburban America. I have Costco memberships. This is different.
But fasting doesn’t have to mean not eating for 40 days. It can be simple:
- Skipping one meal a week
- Avoiding meat on Fridays
- Fasting from convenience (like drive-thru runs)
The point isn’t hunger for hunger’s sake.
It’s remembering you’re not in control of everything. And that your body isn’t your boss.
I tried skipping lunch once a week during Lent. By 1 p.m. I was VERY aware of my stomach. But that awareness turned into prayer.
“God, I’m hungry.”
“God, I need you.”
Basic. Honest. Not poetic.
4. Read the Gospels Like It’s a Story, Not Homework
Confession: I’ve treated Bible reading like a checklist before.
Read chapter. ✔️
Feel spiritual. ✔️
Move on.
But during Lent, I try to slow down.
Maybe read one small passage from Matthew or John and actually sit with it.
Imagine being there.
Like — what did the crowd smell? Dust? Sweat? Bread baking nearby?
If you’ve never tried reading Scripture like a Netflix series, you should. The drama is wild.
(Betrayal. Miracles. Confused disciples. It’s all there.)
5. Practice Radical Generosity (Without Posting About It)
You want a spicy Lent idea for adults? Give something away anonymously.
Money. Time. Encouragement.
One year I left a bigger-than-normal tip at a diner and walked out before the waitress noticed.
Did I want credit? Yes.
Did I tell anyone? Eventually. (I’m human.)
But there’s something about generosity without applause that changes you.
In a culture that documents everything — meals, workouts, random sunsets — quiet giving feels rebellious.
6. Go to a Midweek Service (Even If You’re Tired)
Midweek church hits different.
It’s darker. Quieter. Less polished.
I’ve dragged myself there after long workdays thinking, “Why am I doing this?”
And almost every time, I leave lighter.
There’s something about showing up when it’s inconvenient.
You ever notice how growth rarely happens when it’s easy?
Yeah.
7. Confess Something (To God. Maybe to a Friend.)
Lent has this reputation for being heavy.
And sometimes it is.
But confession isn’t about shame spirals.
It’s about honesty.
One year I admitted to a close friend that I was struggling with jealousy. It felt gross to say out loud.
She looked at me and said, “You seriously thought you were the only one?”
We laughed.
And I felt free.
8. Limit Noise — News, Podcasts, Constant Input
We are drowning in information.
During one Lent, I limited news to 10 minutes a day. No doom-scrolling after 9 p.m.
The first week? Twitchy.
By week three? Peaceful.
If you’re wondering how to celebrate Lent in modern life, this might be it.
Less noise.
More presence.
(Also, your blood pressure might thank you.)
9. Serve Somewhere That Stretches You
Volunteer somewhere slightly uncomfortable.
Not dangerous. Just stretching.
Soup kitchen. Shelter. Church nursery (which requires Olympic-level stamina).
Serving reminds you the world is bigger than your problems.
And Lent is the perfect time to get out of your own head.
10. Actually Prepare for Easter (Not Just the Candy)
This might sound obvious, but hear me out.
Lent isn’t just about self-denial. It’s about anticipation.
Hope building slowly.
Easter feels different when you’ve walked through 40 days of reflection.
It’s like fasting before a feast.
If you’ve never experienced that contrast — try it this year.
It’s kinda wild.
A Quick Pop Culture Tangent (Because I Can’t Help Myself)
You know how in The Office when Michael declares bankruptcy by just yelling it? And Oscar has to explain that’s not how it works?
That’s me sometimes with Lent.
“I DECLARE SPIRITUAL GROWTH.”
Yeah… doesn’t work like that.
It’s slower. Quieter. Less dramatic.
(If you need a laugh mid-Lent, rewatch that episode. Or scroll through something wholesome like Humans of New York — real stories, real depth. It pairs well with reflection.)
So… How to Celebrate Lent Without Losing Your Mind?
Here’s what I’ve learned.
You don’t have to do all 10 and You don’t have to be perfect.
You just have to be willing.
Willing to look inward.
Willing to sit in discomfort for a minute.
Some years my Lent is transformative.
Some years it’s clumsy and inconsistent.
But even the clumsy years shape me.
And honestly? That’s enough.
If you’re figuring out how to celebrate Lent this year, maybe start small.
Pick one thing.
Try it.
Fail at it once or twice.
Keep going anyway.
That’s kind of the whole point.
Forty days isn’t about perfection.
It’s about practice.
And practice, even messy practice, changes you.
Slowly.
Quietly.
For the better.
