Lent 2025 Day 5: Keep the Faith and Embrace Change
- Flannel Diaries
- Mar 10
- 4 min read
"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland." – Isaiah 43:18-19
I’m trying to sit in my sadness and figure out how to move on. I want to eventually not feel sad anymore. And honestly? It f#cking sucks to be sad and disappointed all the time. I want to feel different.
Psychotherapists say we should have some kind of routine during times of shambles, but not necessarily the same schedule we used to have. It’s what they call a “the world is in shambles” routine (I might have made that up). I used to make to-do lists for my day, but now I mostly just stare into the void and wonder when this nightmare will end.
That said, I take a shower every day (mostly). It helps me feel human—less like a sloth drifting through existential dread. The other day, though, I was so lost in my head that I think I shampooed with body wash. It didn’t lather right, so I shampooed again just to be sure. That’s kind of how I’ve been feeling lately. The constant sense of forgetting something, but not knowing what.
And yet—it’s not like I’m doing anything or going anywhere important. I’m just trying to figure this out like the rest of us. The funny thing is, by the time we settle into some kind of rhythm with the state of the world, another disaster hits, and we’re thrown into chaos all over again. Ever since the pandemic, I’ve felt feral in public. Confused by how quickly things went “back to normal,” but also by how fast we slipped back into our cruel way of life: trapped in capitalism, toxic individualism, and collective exhaustion.
I used to have an ex who would cry after sex. Let’s call her Nelly to protect her identity. She is also the same ex who broke up with me to be with another woman. To this day, I can’t tell you what she found more appealing about the other person—I mean, I am a beacon of joy.
The breakup was not smooth. It was one of those emotionally destructive back-and-forth situations that leave you wondering why you even tried to hold onto something already broken. But I was 21 and just starting to become very familiar with rejection and disappointment.
Fast forward four years. I’m at a bar in Walnut Creek, CA. The Bay Area is a vast land where exes can disappear into the void forever—until, of course, they don’t.
Once in a blue moon, you run into them. Maybe at Pride, or some other massive event where thousands of people are present, and yet, the one person you’re actively avoiding is somehow the one you end up face-to-face with. That night, it happened. Nelly was there. The bar wasn’t that busy. And just like that, she came up and started talking to me. She looked mostly the same—except for her tragic Karen haircut, the kind that seems ready to demand to speak to a manager at any moment.
And then, the most unexpected thing happened.
She apologized for how she treated me. She told me she was sorry for breaking my heart.
It had been four years. But the universe works on its own damn timeline.
I still remember exactly what I said: “It’s water under the bridge. It’s been four years. And thank you for apologizing—that’s really big of you. Let me buy you a drink.”
Can you believe that? I actually bought her a drink.
We might have tried to stay in touch after that, but nothing ever really came from it. And that was fine. I wasn’t about to go back down that broken road. Lesson learned.
At the time, I might have felt vindicated. But looking back now? I realize something: Maybe there is no real satisfaction in being right about being wronged. Did it feel good to get an apology? Sure. But what I really would have preferred was to be treated right from the beginning. And that’s the thing about healing—it doesn’t erase what happened. It doesn’t undo the hurt. But it does allow us to move forward, to grow, and to leave behind what no longer serves us.
Lenten Reflection
Lent is about transformation—letting go of the past so we can make space for something new.
Isaiah 43:18-19 reminds us: "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!"
Some things do not need to be carried any further. Some wounds do not need to be reopened. Some roads do not need to be walked again.
The lesson? Keep the faith, embrace change, and trust that something new is on the way.
Healing isn’t linear. Some days, it looks like forgiving the past. On other days, it looks like shampooing your hair twice because you forgot you already did it.
Either way, we keep moving forward.
Lent is about learning to trust that forward is enough.
Take care of yourself and take care of each other.
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