As part of our Interfaith Connections series, Radek Kowalski, SEO Director, shares his personal experience of Lent—a 40-day period of fasting, prayer, and reflection observed in the lead-up to Easter. Recognised as a time of spiritual renewal, Lent holds deep significance for many Christians worldwide, culminating in the celebration of Easter. 

A Time to Reflect: My Journey Through Lent 

I didn’t grow up with Lent—or any faith, for that matter. In the culture I was raised in, church was forbidden, and God was a distant, silenced idea. Religion was deemed a threat to the state, so we lived without its rhythms or comforts. Yet, even in that suppression, a quiet longing stirred in me. Years later, when I encountered Christ, Lent became a reclaiming of what was once denied—a sacred space to connect with the God I’d been kept from. Christian traditions observe this season differently, but all point to resurrection. Evangelicals like myself embrace it as a personal devotion through fasting and prayer. Catholics mark it with rituals like Ash Wednesday’s ashes, symbolising repentance. Orthodox Christians follow a stricter fast toward Pascha, their Easter. These practices, though varied, unite us in hope. 

Fasting lies at the heart of my journey. While some might picture giving up chocolate or social media, my fast runs deeper—an act of devotion and discipline. It’s about quieting my physical cravings to sharpen my awareness of God’s voice. The struggle isn’t accidental; it’s intentional, echoing Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness. One Lent, I gave up coffee—a small but daily crutch—and the following headaches humbled me, teaching me to rely on God’s strength. That vulnerability deepened my faith, starkly contrasting the self-sufficiency drilled into me as a child. 

Prayer anchors my days during Lent. I commit to three moments of connection: morning, midday, and evening. The Lectio 365 app guides me through scripture-based reflections, rooting me in God’s presence. Mornings start in silence, tuning my heart to the Holy Spirit. Midday offers a pause to re-centre. Evenings close with gratitude—and often, a prayer for persecuted Christians. Knowing the stifling weight of my own communist upbringing, I lift up those who, even today, face imprisonment or worse for their faith. These rhythms steady me amid life’s busyness. 

The Challenges—and Joys—of Fasting 

Fasting isn’t always easy—let’s be real. Some days, my growling stomach overshadows my spiritual focus, or distractions pull me away from devotion. Yet these moments are gifts in disguise. They sharpen my purpose: to cultivate self-control, loosen the hold of habits like endless social media scrolling, and deepen my hunger for God above all else.  

Prayer during Lent becomes a two-way exchange. I speak, but I also listen. My quiet times—those still moments sitting with God—bring a peace that settles deep within. There’s a unique power in turning down life’s noise to hear the Holy Spirit’s whisper, a freedom I wasn’t aware of growing up. 

A Season of Transformation 

Lent isn’t just a series of “no’s.” It’s a resounding “yes”—to deeper faith, greater compassion, and lasting inner change. Each day feels like a spiritual workout. Some are gruelling, others grace-filled, but every step builds resilience in my soul. As Easter nears, I sense the shift: less distracted, more grounded, and profoundly grateful for the cross and the empty tomb—celebrated with sunrise services, hymns, or vigils across traditions. For me, it’s a triumph I once couldn’t dream of knowing. 

Support and Shared Experiences 

One of Lent’s unexpected blessings has been sharing this season with colleagues of diverse faiths. I’ve been inspired by those observing Ramadan—their dedication mirrors my own and reveals the universal depth of spiritual commitment.  

As a follower of Jesus, my hope rests in the gospel: Christ’s death and resurrection. Though our beliefs differ, these interfaith exchanges highlight a shared yearning for redemption and purpose. My past makes me especially mindful of those persecuted for faith—Christians and others alike—and I pray for their strength daily. 

Sharing my faith in the workplace matters deeply to me. It’s not about preaching—it’s about living authentically. When colleagues ask why I’m skipping lunch or pausing for prayer, it opens doors to share Lent’s meaning and my journey from a godless upbringing to this.  

These conversations amplify my gratitude for the cross. Fasting, prayer, and the pursuit of holiness guide me back to God’s grace and love revealed through Jesus—a gift I once couldn’t claim. While our paths may diverge, every act of devotion stirs the soul toward the One who offers true hope and salvation.