Part One: Prayer — You Become What You Consume

Introduction

Last Lent was the most extraordinary Lent of my life—not because it was easy, but because it was ordered. For the first time, I truly embraced Lent as the Church intends it to be lived: as a season of focused prayer, intentional fasting, and generous almsgiving. I did not simply “give something up.” I gave myself over more fully to Jesus Christ, and He met me there with an abundance I could never have orchestrated on my own.

What unfolded over those six weeks changed my spiritual life, my relationship with food, my trust in God’s provision, and ultimately the direction of my vocation. Looking back, I can see clearly: none of it was accidental. Grace was at work in every small, faithful choice.

When the Church gives us Lent, she does not begin with food—she begins with God. Prayer is the foundation of every authentic spiritual renewal. Without prayer, fasting becomes willpower and almsgiving becomes philanthropy. With prayer, everything is transformed into relationship.

Last Lent, I discovered something life-changing: what we consistently “feed” our minds and hearts directly shapes our ability to hear and respond to Jesus Christ. Before my fasting deepened and before generosity overflowed, prayer reordered my interior life.

Here is how that transformation began.

Prayer: You Become What You Consume

One of the most significant shifts I made last Lent was becoming radically intentional about what I allowed to shape my mind and heart. I realized that if fasting is about disciplining the body, prayer must include disciplining what we “feed” our soul.

I made a deliberate choice to watch only Catholic or Christian content. Instead of mindless television, I watched movies about the saints on Formed, Catholic documentaries, and faith-based films. When I wasn’t able to attend daily Mass in person, I watched Mass on EWTN. I started The Chosen from the very beginning and allowed myself to truly enter into the life of Christ and His disciples.

I guarded my time on social media, replacing scrolling with Catholic podcasts and YouTube content that pointed me toward truth, reverence, and hope. I attended every parish activity available to me—even when it required extra effort. Some weekends, that meant going to Mass on Saturday night and again on Sunday morning. Instead of seeing that as “too much,” I experienced it as nourishment.

What I discovered was simple but profound: when I was careful about what I consumed mentally and spiritually, I became far more attentive to Jesus Christ and His will in my daily life. Distractions lost their grip. Noise quieted. I found myself drawn naturally toward Adoration, lingering longer in prayer, and praying daily beyond what had previously been my norm.

Prayer stopped feeling like something I had to “fit in” and became the atmosphere in which my life was lived.

Conclusion: Prayer Makes Space for Grace

Prayer did not add more to my schedule—it removed what didn’t belong. As my mind quieted and my attention sharpened, I became more available to God’s invitations throughout the day. Prayer prepared the soil of my heart.

And once that soil was ready, the Lord began working more deeply—this time through my body.

In Part Two, I will share how fasting became the teacher that turned hunger into prayer and discipline into freedom.