DAY 8 — THE LAMP WITH LOW BATTERY

“Even a Dim Light Still Shows the Way”

Two hikers walked through the forest at dusk.
One carried a bright, powerful lamp.
The other carried a small torch whose battery was nearly dead.
As the path grew darker, the dim lamp flickered weakly.

Embarrassed, the second hiker said,
“I’m slowing you down. My lamp is useless.”

But the first hiker shook his head.
“Your lamp doesn’t need to light the whole forest.
It only needs to show you
your next step.”

Together they continued —
one bright beam,
one faint glow,
both reaching the same destination.

We often feel ashamed when our faith feels weak —
when prayer feels dry,
when spiritual energy is low,
when our light seems dim compared to others.

But God never asks you for a brilliant light.
He asks for a faithful one.

Even a faint prayer,
a tired amen,
a weary attempt to be good
is still light enough
for the next step.

Lent is not about having strong faith —
it is about walking forward
with the faith you have.

God does not judge the brightness of your lamp.
He blesses your willingness
to keep walking in the dark.

DAY 7 — THE BROKEN PENCIL

“God Never Discards You — He Reshapes You”

In a busy classroom, a frustrated student pressed too hard on her pencil and snapped it in half.
The graphite split, the wood cracked, and she cried out,
“Now it’s useless!”

Expecting her teacher to be annoyed,
she held out the broken pencil apologetically.

But the teacher didn’t scold her.
He simply walked to the sharpener,
placed the broken half inside,
and gently turned the handle.

A fresh point emerged — new, sharp, ready.
He handed it back and said,
“It’s not useless.
It just needed a new point.”

The girl smiled.
A broken pencil had become a new beginning.

So often we look at our mistakes
and conclude we are beyond repair.
We tell ourselves:
“I failed — I’m done.”
“I sinned again — I’m hopeless.”
“I broke something — God won’t use me.”

But God is a teacher who refuses to throw you away.
When life snaps you in half,
He doesn’t discard you —
He reshapes you.

Your brokenness is not your ending;
it is the beginning of a deeper grace.
Lent is the season of sharpening:
of letting God refine your intentions,
purify your desires,
and shape your weaknesses
into wisdom.

Broken pencils still write.
And broken hearts still love.
And broken sinners still become saints.

DAY 6 — THE QUIET CONFESSION

“The First Step Back Is Already Grace”

Late one evening, a man walked into a small chapel
for the first time in many years.
He didn’t approach the altar.
He didn’t pick up a prayer book.
He didn’t speak.
He simply sat in the last pew
with a heaviness that words couldn’t carry.

The priest noticed him from afar
and walked over slowly, gently.

He didn’t ask why he had come.
He only whispered,
“My son…
God has missed your voice.”

The man’s eyes filled with tears
as he replied quietly,
“And I…
I have missed His.”

Nothing more was said.
But something had already begun:
The journey home.

Confession doesn’t begin
with words, formulas, or lists.
It begins with returning.
With stepping back into God’s presence,
even if you don’t know what to say.

God sees the moment your heart turns,
even before your lips move.

Lent is the season when heaven leans close —
not to accuse,
but to embrace.
Not to shame,
but to restore.
Not to punish,
but to bring you home.

Grace meets you not at the confessional door,
but at the moment you decide,
“Maybe I should go back.”

That first step
is already forgiveness in motion.