I’m not traveling toward totality, and I’m not sure how much I will see of the eclipse. But I’ll be remembering that early-morning trip with my father to see a comet that only passes us every 76 years.

Somehow it seems easier to lean into the penance and sacrifice of Lent than the extended exultation of Easter. Maybe a day or two—or even a week—of rejoicing seems manageable. But 50 days? How will we ever be able sustain it?

Prayer is so powerful. Telling someone you are praying for them—and following through—can be an extraordinary gift.

No matter how we plan, or the expectations we set for ourselves, the actual Lenten journey never seems to look the way we might have hoped it would.

“I think he realized I was troubled as a father. You have to fight for your children,” Don said. “He said, ‘I’m glad you came to me.’ What a fine example of what God calls us to do. He truly was a man of God.”

Like Veronica, who wipes Jesus’ face on the way to Calvary, and Simon of Cyrene who helps Jesus carry his cross, people we might not even know – or know well – are ready to walk beside us and lighten our load.

As we turned to leave Mass, I saw that a little boy in the back had snagged a balloon.

A few months ago, I noticed that our grocery store no longer had hand-held shopping baskets. If you wanted to shop, you had to use one of the large rolling grocery carts.

Lent is young, and we have such a beautiful opportunity to grow in love for Jesus in the days ahead. What a wonderful journey this can be.

Whatever this Lenten season brings for us, may we trust that God is longing to be closer to each of us, surrounding us with his love, and inviting us into the comfort and joy of a deeper relationship with him.