"Fifty Days Of Silence, Strength , and Something Unexpected "

 Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

There are moments in life when silence teaches more than noise ever could. These past fifty days of Lent have been one of those moments for me. What started as a simple decision—to avoid meat, milk, and everything I usually enjoy—slowly turned into something much deeper, something I didn’t expect but truly needed. At first, it was just about discipline. I told myself I would stay away from certain foods, follow a routine, and pray when I could. It felt like a challenge, something to prove to myself that I had control over my habits. But as the days passed, I began to understand that Lent is not just about avoiding food. It is about learning to let go. Let go of comfort. Let go of desires. Let go of things that quietly control us without us even realizing.

There were days when it was hard. Days when I felt tired, when I craved the things I had given up, and when everything inside me wanted to break the promise I had made. But somehow, I held on. Not because I was strong, but because I believed that this obedience meant something. That every small sacrifice was being seen. That every quiet prayer was being heard. At the same time, life around me was not easy. There were worries that kept coming back again and again—my visa situation, financial pressures, responsibilities, and things I could not fully explain to anyone. Sometimes it felt like I was carrying everything alone. Even when people were around me, I felt a certain kind of distance, like no one truly understood what was going on inside me.

But in that silence, something changed. I started becoming more patient. I began to pause before reacting. I noticed how my anger, my short temper, had affected situations in the past. I saw clearly how many problems were not created by the situation itself, but by how I responded to it. And for the first time, I didn’t try to justify it. I just accepted it. Lent gave me that clarity. It taught me that strength is not always about speaking louder or reacting faster. Sometimes, strength is simply staying calm when everything inside you is restless. It is choosing to be kind even when you are frustrated. It is holding your words when you know they might hurt someone. And slowly, I began to change—not suddenly, not perfectly, but honestly. I started to become a person who listens more, reacts less, and thinks deeper. A person who understands that peace is not found outside, but within. And that change did not come from any big moment. It came from small, quiet days of discipline, prayer, and reflection.

And then, something unexpected happened. In the middle of all this silence and growth, a new presence entered my life—so quietly, yet so meaningfully. It wasn’t something I was actively searching for at that moment. It just happened, almost like it was placed there at the right time, without any noise, without any force. There is a verse that says, “He has made everything beautiful in its time.” — Ecclesiastes 3:11

 And I think I began to understand that in a very personal way. Conversations started simply. Nothing complicated, nothing rushed. Just two people trying to understand each other, step by step, word by word. There was a calmness in those conversations—a kind of peace that I had not felt in a long time. It wasn’t about impressing or pretending. It was just about being real. And somewhere in between those conversations, something gentle began to grow. Not something loud. Not something that needs to be explained. But something that feels right… like it belongs in this phase of life. It came when I needed it the most, even without me asking for it directly. There are moments when I feel like this is not just a coincidence. That maybe, just maybe, some things are guided. That is when you are learning to become better, when you are trying to align your life with something greater, certain people and certain paths begin to appear.

Not everything needs to be said out loud. Some things are better understood in silence… in prayers… in hope. And that is where I am right now—standing between what I was and what I am becoming. Standing between uncertainty and faith. I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know how everything will unfold. But I know one thing: I am not the same person I was before these fifty days. This Lent has been more than just a period of sacrifice. It has been a journey of understanding myself, correcting myself, and slowly rebuilding myself. It made me realize that life will always have problems. There will always be worries, delays, and unanswered questions. But how I carry myself through those moments—that is what truly matters.

My visa situation, my financial struggles, my personal battles… they are still there. Not everything is solved. But something inside me has changed. I no longer feel the same fear. I no longer react the same way. There is a calm belief growing inside me that things will fall into place at the right time. And maybe that is what faith really is. Not having everything figured out… but still choosing to trust.

As I look back at these fifty days, I don’t just see what I gave up. I see what I gained. I gained patience. I gained clarity. I gained control over myself. And somewhere along the way… I found a quiet happiness I didn’t know I was missing. And yes, there is also a small, gentle light that has entered my life during this journey—a presence that makes me feel understood, heard, and peaceful. I don’t know where it will lead. I don’t want to rush it. I just want to let it grow naturally, with time, with prayers, and with the belief that if it is meant to be, it will find its way. Because I have learned something very important during this Lent—

Not everything needs to be forced.

Some things just need to be trusted.

And today, I stand here with a heart that is still carrying worries, but also carrying hope. A heart that has seen struggles, but has also found strength. A heart that believes that no matter how complicated things look right now, they will settle. If God is willing… I will be winning. Not just in the things I am praying for, but in the person I am becoming.

joe💓