Week One: Reset the Pace     

 “Be still, and know that I am God!” (Psalm 46:10) 

We often interpret God’s command to “be still” as “to be quiet in God’s presence.” While quietness is certainly helpful, the phrase means to stop frantic activity and be still. For God’s people, being “still” would involve looking to the Lord for help, as illustrated in Exodus 14:13.

“But Moses told the people, ‘Don’t be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again.”  

Lent invites us to pause, stop, and pay attention. Not to do more. Not to try harder. But to stop long enough to notice what’s happening beneath the surface.

This year, the word that keeps coming back to me is RESET.

Slowing down matters. Because before anything can be reset, the pace has to change.

When I looked up the word “reset” in the dictionary, one definition stood out: to prepare something for use.

That changed everything for me.

RESET isn’t about erasing the past or starting over from nothing. It’s not about shame, guilt, or spiritual performance. It’s about preparation, readiness, and alignment. It’s about God lovingly taking what already exists and getting it ready for what’s next.

That feels a lot like Lent.

Lent is preparation. It’s the season when God gently clears space, recalibrates our hearts, and reorients our attention. Often, the very first way he does that is by slowing us down. Not because we’ve failed, but because he knows what’s coming.

In our Lenten journey, Jesus invites us to trust him with our deepest fears, our deepest hopes, and in the places that feel dead or beyond repair. Resurrection is always before us, and God prepares us before he reveals it.

We often want God to use us—our lives, our voices, our gifts. But preparation almost always comes first. Pace is slowed. Hearts are softened. Motives are purified. Distractions are named. Lent permits us to let God do that quiet, necessary work.

A reset doesn’t mean something is broken. It simply means it’s being prepared again.

Over these weeks of Lent, this series will be an invitation—not to strive, but to receive. To allow God to reset our pace, our focus, our dependence, and our hearts. To let him prepare us—not for busyness, but for faithfulness. Not just for Easter Sunday, but for the life he’s calling us to beyond it.

As we begin our Lenten journey, simply notice your pace and invite God to slow it as he begins the reset, trusting that he is already at work beneath the surface.

That’s the invitation.