Lent Week 3: Steps, Saints, and Turning Towards Home

“Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love…”
— Joel 2:13

Lent invites us into repentance. But maybe not in the way we usually imagine it.

We often think of repentance as guilt or groveling—a posture of shame. But in Scripture, repentance is more than feeling sorry. It’s a turning. A returning. A reorientation of the heart. It’s not just about what we’re leaving behind, but who we’re returning to.

In Luke 15, Jesus tells a story about a son who walks away from his father. He demands his inheritance early, leaves home, and wastes it all. Eventually, he hits rock bottom. Hungry and alone, he remembers what he once had—the safety, the kindness, the nearness of home. And so he turns. Not with confidence, but with the faintest hope that his father might take him back, even as a servant.

But before he can finish his rehearsed apology, the father sees him from far off. Runs to him. Wraps him in embrace. Calls for a feast. The son comes with guilt; the father responds with grace.

“But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion…”
— Luke 15:20

That’s the kind of return Lent invites us into.

And we see this same grace in St. Peter, who wept after denying Jesus—yet was met, not with rejection, but with restoration. And we see it, too, in the life of St. Francis of Assisi.

Francis was born in 1181 or 1182, the son of a wealthy cloth merchant in the thriving Italian town of Assisi. Charismatic and ambitious, he was beloved by many and dreamed of military glory. But after a period of illness, disillusionment, and captivity as a prisoner of war, Francis’s inner life began to shift. He became restless with the life he had known.

One day, as he wandered outside the city, he stepped into the crumbling chapel of San Damiano, a small church in ruin on the outskirts of Assisi. There, in the silence, he knelt before the cross—and heard the voice of Christ speak to him:

“Francis, go and rebuild my church, which you see is falling into ruin.”

At first, Francis took the words literally. He began to repair the old stone building with his own hands. But over time, he understood that Christ was calling him to something deeper: a rebuilding of the Church not in brick, but in spirit. He gave up his inheritance, stripped himself of his wealth and fine clothing, and embraced a life of radical simplicity, joy, and service.

Like the prodigal son, and like Peter, Francis had to come to the end of himself before he could truly come home. And when he did, he discovered that the heart of God was not judgment, but welcome. Grace had been waiting for him all along.

This third week of Lent, we are invited to stop and ask: Where have I wandered? Where is God gently calling me back?

The journey home may begin with just a single step. But grace is already running to meet you.

Reflection Questions:

1. What parts of your life or heart feel far from God right now?
2. Are there ways you’ve misunderstood repentance—as punishment rather than restoration?
3. What would it look like to return to God this week, not in fear, but in hope?

A Prayer for Returning

God of mercy,
I have wandered.
In small ways, and maybe in big ones.
But I want to come home.
Help me return—not just with my words,
but with my whole heart.
Thank you that you are already watching, already running,
already welcoming me with open arms.
Amen.