Lent Entry #41

 

God,

Today feels like a quiet scene. Nothing dramatic. Nothing overwhelming. Just…peaceful. Calm.

I’m in my beautifully chaotic bedroom: plushies everywhere, books stacked and scattered, and pillows soft and familiar. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. It feels safe.

There’s a small rhythm to the morning. My solar bobblehead in the window, gently moving like it has its own little world—ticking, ticking, like time is passing but not rushing me.

I choked down my morning water (still working on that, lol), but my coffee? That I enjoyed. And breakfast felt good: Waffles with fruit, Greek yogurt, and chocolate syrup—simple things, but they made the moment feel full.

Sitting there, eating, watching YouTube, and just existing, I realized something: I’m content. Not struggling. Just steady. Just here. And I think that matters. And…I’m happy. A quiet kind of happy. 

Thank You for mornings like this—for calm instead of chaos, for enough instead of more, for a moment where I can just be.

Sometimes I expect something big to feel close to You, but maybe You’re just as present in mornings like this. In the quiet, in the routine, and in the soft, ordinary peace.

And right now, that feels like more than enough. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below,

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink.

Lent Entry #40

 God,

If my soul were a room right now, it wouldn’t be perfectly clean or peaceful. It would be dimly lit—quiet, but not empty. There’s a soft, gentle light that never fully fills the space, but is still there...bright enough to see by. There are parts of the room that feel warm: memories, love, and the people I care about.

But there are also corners I avoid looking at—shelves filled with unopened books, and half-written stories scattered like they were abandoned mid-thought. Ideas I never finished. Pieces of myself I didn’t fully explore. Chapters I was too tired, too afraid, or too unsure to complete. Some things are messy. Not ruined—just…not finished yet.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room where I sit with You. Sometimes I talk. Sometimes I just sit there, hoping You understand what I don’t have words for.

Even though the room isn’t perfect, You’re still there. Not waiting for everything to be in place. Not asking me to be complete before You come closer. You sit with me in this quiet space, as if it’s enough to just be here together. And because You show me that kind of grace…I know where I need to show it, too.

I need to show grace in the moments where I get frustrated—with others, when they don’t understand me, and with myself, when I don’t understand myself.

I need to show grace when things feel unfinished, when people don’t meet my expectations, and when I feel like I’m falling short. Because Jesus didn’t wait for perfection before offering love. He met people right where they were. 

I want to learn to do the same: To be patient instead of critical. To be gentle instead of harsh. To give space for growth—in others, and in myself. Lent isn’t about becoming brighter all at once, but about letting You stay even in the quiet, unfinished places. Among the unopened books, the half-written stories, and the parts of me that are still changing. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below,

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink.

Love and Chaos (a poem and a playlist)

 

Love can be a chaotic rollercoaster. 

It can bring you up, down, 

spin you all around. 

But despite all the loops and hoops you go through, 

The chaotic love lingers 

and never lets go.  

©Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2026

Smooches and think Tink! 💋❤💜

Images created using AI tools (ChatGPT / image generation), but it's my OC and concept.

Lent Entry #39

 

God,

Thank You for keeping my loved ones safe. Thank You for watching over them in ways I can’t always see. It brings me peace knowing they are in Your care. 

Please continue to guide and protect those I love. Surround them with Your presence and lead them in the right direction.

Help me never take their safety for granted. 

Happy Palm Sunday, Jesus! 🌿 💜

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below,

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink.

Lent Entry #38

 

God,

When I’m feeling annoyed, please help me pause and breathe before I react. Calm my thoughts and steady my spirit so I don’t let small frustrations take over. Give me patience in the moment and remind me to respond with grace.

Help me keep my peace and let things go when they’re not worth holding onto. 

Also, please help others to see the error of their ways, like You help me see mine.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below, 

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink. 

My Latest OC

 

Anthony has dark-chocolate skin, faded black hair, and dark green eyes. He wears a 50s-style leather jacket, blue jeans, and biker boots. He appeared in my dream one night at a graveyard. He's playful, and zaps place to place. He’s the son of Morpheus (the Greek god of dreams). Anthony’s magic colors are black and silver. Adam is training him to be Magnificence’s new Dream Protector©, since Adam decided to protect me full-time and be my imaginary husband. Anthony will stay with us during the day and go back to Magnificence at night. He’s twenty-nine.

I might put him in a future story.

Image created using AI tools (ChatGPT / image generation), but it's my Original Character and concept.

Smooches and think Tink.

Lent Entry #37

 

God,

Thank You for the connections I have in my life. Thank You for the people who care for me, who stay, who listen, and who bring warmth into my days. Help me to appreciate them more and to be a source of kindness in their lives, too. Guide my heart to nurture these relationships with love, patience, and understanding. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below,

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink. 

Lent Entry #36

 

God,

If there’s anything in me that needs to fade this Lent, it’s my occasional anxiety.

It’s the overthinking on a dizzying loop and the way my mind runs ahead of me, imagining the worst before anything even happens. It steals my peace and makes me forget that You are already in control.

I lay my anxiety down—not perfectly, not all at once, but honestly. Because You never asked me to hold everything together by myself.

Help me release the fear of “what if.”
Help me trust You with the unknown.
Help me breathe without feeling like something is about to go wrong.

Let my anxiety fade, and let something new take its place.

Let peace live in me.
Let trust grow in me.
Let me feel safe in Your presence, even when life feels uncertain. 

Thank You for always holding me, even when I feel like I can’t hold myself.

Remind me that I am held, that I am not alone, and that I don’t have to fight every battle in my own mind.

Day by day, teach me how to rest in You. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below, 

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink. 

Lent Entry #35

 

God,

Today I don’t come to ask for anything.

No requests, no worries, no lists of things I hope You’ll fix.

I just want to sit with You.

Thank You for being here—even in the moments I don’t notice, even in the quiet spaces where I forget to look.

Thank You for my life, for my breath, for the small things that feel ordinary but aren’t.

Thank You for staying, even when my mind wanders, or my faith feels distant.

Right now, I’m not asking for answers.

I’m not asking for change.

I’m just here.

And I know…somehow, that’s enough. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below,

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink. 

Lent Entry #34

 

God,

Thank You for nostalgia—the quiet, tender gift of remembering.

Thank You for the moments I can look back on with a smile instead of sadness. For the memories that feel like soft light instead of something heavy. For showing me that my past doesn’t have to hurt to be meaningful.

Thank You for how far I’ve come, even in ways I didn’t notice at the time; For the growth hidden in ordinary days, and for the strength You were building in me when I didn’t yet understand it.

When I revisit old songs, old places, or old versions of myself, please help me see them with gratitude instead of longing. Remind me that every version of me was held by You, guided by You, and never alone.

Let my memories be a reminder—not of what I’ve lost—but of how much I’ve lived, how much I’ve learned, and how much You’ve carried me through.

Thank You for the past, for the present, and for the person I’m still becoming. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit;

As above, so below,

Amen/Blessed be. 

Smooches and think Tink.

Lent Entry #33

 

God,

Thank You for showing me that my faith and my spiritual practices don’t have to be in conflict. Instead, they can come together in a way that brings me closer to You.

In crystals, I don’t seek power—I see reminders of the beauty and intention You placed in creation. In journaling, I don’t just write—I open my heart to You, turning my thoughts into quiet prayers. In music, I don’t just listen—sometimes I feel something deeper, something that grounds me and gently brings me back to Your presence.

These things don’t pull me away from You. They steady me. They help me breathe, reflect, and reconnect.

Please bless the things that help me feel grounded. Let them always lead me toward peace, toward truth, and toward You. Keep my heart centered so that everything I turn to for comfort becomes a path that leads back to You.

Help others find their own ways to feel grounded and connected, too, whatever that may look like for them. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; 

As above, so below,  

Amen/Blessed be.

Smooches and think Tink