Real-Life Prayer in a Real-Life Lent

I’ll admit it. I’m not a naturally prayerful person.

I mean, I pray, of course. I’m Catholic, I love Jesus, I know how to rattle off a Rosary with the best of them. But the idea of real, focused, quiet, intentional prayer—especially for any extended amount of time? That used to feel totally out of reach for me.

Like, isn’t that for monks? Or those holy women with their worn-out Bibles, candles lit, and a hot cup of tea in hand every morning before sunrise? Meanwhile, I was just over here trying to remember if I had clean socks for the kids. Prayer time? Maybe I had a passing moment of prayer while peeling potatoes, if I didn’t get distracted by a podcast or someone needing a snack.

But something shifted for me one Lent years ago.

I don’t even remember what made me do it, but when I was a young mom, I committed to ten minutes of quiet prayer every day. Ten minutes! That’s it. What a rock star I was, right? And even that felt like climbing Everest on some days. I had to fight the urge to multitask, resist checking my phone, and quiet my racing brain.

But I did it.

Day by day, mostly imperfectly. Some days the prayer was tearful. Some days it was dry. Some days it was just sitting in silence with God and asking, “Are You here? Because I am. I think...”

Here’s what I found:

Prayer changes everything.

Not in the “now all my problems are fixed” kind of way, but in the “I’m not doing this alone anymore” kind of way. It opened up space in my heart I didn’t even know was closed off.

And like fasting, prayer is one of the pillars of Lent. Jesus assumes we’re doing it.

“When you pray…” (Matthew 6:5)

Not if. When. So…we pray.

Not perfectly. Not always with poetic words or saintly posture. Sometimes through tears, sometimes while walking, sometimes while doing dishes. But Lent reminds us: prayer is essential. Not just to do, but to be—to be with God.

Some things I’ve learned on the journey:

1. You don’t need the perfect setup to pray.

I’ve prayed in my car, in line at the grocery store, while wiping a highchair tray. Yes, quiet, set-aside prayer time is ideal, but it’s not always realistic. The key is showing up. And if you can carve out just five or ten minutes of real quiet, it’s a game-changer. Your soul is starving for that kind of connection.

2. Prayer isn’t always doing. It’s often just being.

We live in a world that constantly pushes productivity. But prayer invites us into stillness. You don’t have to have the right words. You don’t even have to “feel” anything. Just sit. Listen. Breathe. Offer your heart. That’s prayer.

3. Prayer doesn’t have to be perfect to be powerful.

Some of the most transformative prayers I’ve prayed were the messy, unfiltered, unfinished ones. “Lord, I’m exhausted.” “Jesus, help.” “God, I don’t understand, but I trust you.” These are real. And he hears every one.

4. When you don’t feel like praying, that’s usually when you need it the most.

It’s wild how resistant I can be to prayer when I’m overwhelmed, anxious, or tired. But those are the exact moments I need to stop everything and just be with God. Every time I do, I come away feeling steadier, calmer, more myself.

5. Prayer and fasting go hand-in-hand.

Without prayer, fasting is just a diet. Without fasting, prayer can become too comfortable. Lent gives us both—sacrifice and surrender—so we can grow in faith and dependence on God. They strengthen and sharpen each other.

So this Lent, I’m recommitting to prayer. Quiet, intentional, daily prayer—even when it’s hard. Even when I don’t feel like it. Even when my inbox is calling and my coffee’s gone cold.

Because I want to hear God’s voice. I want to grow. I want to really walk with Jesus through these 40 days.

If you’re trying to pray more this Lent too, I’m with you.

Start small.
Set a timer.
Light a candle if you can.
Open Scripture.
Or just whisper God’s name.

He sees the effort. He honors the desire. And he shows up.

Let’s keep showing up too.

I’m praying for you today, friend. I’m so glad we’re walking this together. Let’s keep going. 💙