I was halfway through my pepperoni pizza when I opened my phone and saw my family’s texts about Lent. I stopped mid-bite—Lent literally just started last Wednesday, and I already cheated and ate meat on the first Friday of Lent?!
I immediately thought, “Does God even care that I’m eating meat?” And then the guilt hit, not because I’d failed God, but because I’d failed the invisible checklist. I’m not Catholic. I’m not required to observe Lent. So why do I feel like I’m failing?
Am I being spiritually lazy or free?
My Lent Background
I grew up doing Lent because my mom is Catholic, even though we weren’t raised Catholic. We grew up in a nondenominational Christian church but still observed Lent. My friends would get confused when I’d talk about giving up chocolate for Lent. “Are you Catholic?” they’d ask. And I’d say, “No, but my mom is, so we do Lent.” We absorbed the practice, and I grew up doing Lent as a borrowed tradition, not a denominational requirement.
Now as an adult, I know I’m not required to give something up for Lent…but should I want to? I used to do it and it was difficult, but now I don’t want to. What does that say about me?
Am I taking the easy way out and using my Christian denomination as an excuse not to do a difficult thing?
The Real Question: Performance vs Relationship
I had to pull back and think: do I feel guilty about not doing Lent because I’m letting God down, or people down? Which leads to this next question:
When does a spiritual discipline become a spiritual performance?
Two believers with the same Lenten practice can have completely different hearts.
Lent as Worship
There are believers who observe Lent as a way to genuinely draw closer to Christ. The abstinence creates space to remember His sacrifice. If these believers skip the Lenten practice, they miss intimacy with God, not just a checkmark. This viewpoint of Lent produces the fruits of peace, deeper relationship, gratitude, and transformation.
Lent as Works
But then there are also believers who observe Lent because “good Christians observe Lent”. They may be anxious about doing it “right” or comparing themselves to others’ Lenten commitments. “Oh, maybe I should give up coffee like they did. Maybe giving up social media isn’t enough. I’ll do both!” Guilt eats away at them when they mess up, but puff up in pride when they succeed. But notice the fruits produced here: anxiety. Comparison. Performance. Exhaustion. Shame.
Again, the same practice but completely different hearts. One is using Lent as worship. The other is works-righteousness and anxiety.
In Matthew 6:16-18, Jesus speaks about fasting and tells us not to do it for show, but do it for the Father. Isaiah 58:3-7 touches on God’s frustration with performative fasting versus fasting that produces justice and mercy.
The bottom line is God cares more about our hearts than our religious checklists.
So, this made me even more confused. Do I feel guilty about not doing Lent because I’d be missing out on a deeper relationship with God? Or do I feel guilty because I feel like I “should” be doing it to be a “good Christian”?
Discernment: How to Tell the Difference
How can we tell the difference between Holy Spirit conviction and religious anxiety? They can feel so similarly.
Holy Spirit Conviction feels like:
A gentle, specific invitation to something concrete. This can be a pull at your soul to do something that might be uncomfortable. Notice the word: uncomfortable. Not toxic, or bad, or negative. Just uncomfortable. Conviction should never make you feel ashamed or guilty, but it will most likely make you feel uncomfy. Holy Spirit conviction will have a layer of peace underneath it, even if it’s challenging. It draws you TOWARD God, not away. Sometimes you can even see the clear purpose of WHY you should do something. It’s usually very personal and relevant to where you are right now. And at its core, Holy Spirit conviction will always result in growth and a deeper relationship with God.
Religious Anxiety feels like:
Vague, nagging guilt. “I should probably do SOMETHING.” It can be very generic and comparative like, “Good Christians observe Lent” or “That influencer reads her Bible every morning, I need to do that too.” Religious anxiety carries the fear of being “not enough” or “not doing enough”. This anxiety makes us run from failure. We don’t have a destination; all we know is we’re running away from failing. Whereas, conviction will direct us TOWARD God, not AWAY from anything. And, most importantly, when stripped down to bare bones, we can’t explain why we “should” do something. All we can articulate is “I should do this”. “Why?” “I just should.”
To make this easier, let’s look at four questions we can ask ourselves to discern between Holy Spirit conviction and religious anxiety.
1. Am I doing this out of fear or love?
If we’re thinking, “I have to or I’m not a good Christian” = Fear.
If the root is “I want to know God more” = Love
1 John 4:18 reminds us there is no fear in love. If we’re motivated by fear of punishment or not being enough, that’s not from God.
2. What fruit is this producing in my life?
Is this producing guilt, anxiety, comparison, or pride? = Performance.
Whereas a healthy situation will bear the fruits of peace, growth, intimacy with God, and transformation.
3. If I stopped, what would I actually be losing?
If we stopped the action right now, if we were doing Lent and stopped, would we lose the feeling of being “good enough”? Or would we lose a genuine connection with God?
4. Is this practice FOR GOD or ABOUT ME?
This one got me. Do I want to do Lent to say “Look how disciplined I am! I gave up Starbucks for 40 days for Lent!” or do I want to do it just to say “I want to know You more, God!” The heart posture and mindset behind the motivation tells us everything. If we’re motivated by fear of punishment or not being enough, it’s not from God.
And then here’s where I get confused. Will giving up Starbucks draw me closer to God? I don’t think so. Will it save me money? Absolutely. But for me, personally (and it’s okay if you feel differently), I don’t think giving up Starbucks will help deepen my relationship with God.
This is when I realized that my guilt about not doing Lent was rooted in anxiety, not conviction. I kept telling myself I should do Lent and that it would probably help my relationship with God. But I didn’t feel Him actually pulling me toward it. Just the vague guilt of “shoulds”.
My Current Struggle
Last year, I gave up social media. I was only allowed to post content for ARMR Collective but that’s it. I wasn’t allowed to scroll or post anything else. It was good. I had more peace and presence…until I downloaded a new game to play instead. I technically was following Lent, but I was still on my phone for the same amount of time, so what good did it really do?
So then, this year, I thought, “I probably should do that again…but I don’t want to.”
And then all these other voices chimed in saying, “I know I’m dependent on social media” and “But I’ve finally found my voice on important topics and I want to engage!” And then I told myself that I need to scroll to “stay informed”, but is that true or am I just trying to justify it?
Am I afraid of losing my voice, or am I afraid of losing the scroll?
Because last year when I gave up scrolling, I didn’t lose my voice. I could still post as ARMR Collective. I could still engage. What I lost was the constant consumption, the comparison, the dopamine hit of the feed.
But this year feels different. I’m in a season right now where I’m learning to use MY voice, not just ARMR’s voice, but mine. I’m practicing engaging with hard topics publicly. I’m learning to share my actual thoughts and beliefs, not just carefully curated content. And right now, that requires being in the conversation.
Maybe next year giving up social media or something else will be exactly what I need. But this year, I think the invitation is different.
And that might be true for you too. Maybe God is calling you to something totally different than what you did last year, or what your church is doing, or what you see everyone posting about. Maybe your Lent looks like adding a practice instead of subtracting one. Maybe it looks like rest. Maybe it looks like speaking up when you’ve been silent.
The point isn’t what you’re doing or not doing.
The point is: Are you listening to what God is inviting YOU into?
The Path Forward: Three Valid Options
Whatever path you’re on, it doesn’t mean you’re any less faithful than someone else on a different path.
Path 1: You’re observing Lent with your whole heart.
And this is beautiful. Keep going. Let it draw you closer to Jesus. Don’t let it get tainted or be about proving anything. Lent can be deeply grounding and peaceful. Just make sure to keep this worship rooted in freedom, not fear.
Path 2: You’re white-knuckling through Lent because you feel you have to.
Maybe it’s time to ask why. Is this about worship or works? Are you doing this for God or for the feeling of being “good enough”? If you’ve realized you’re doing it just to “look good”, you’re allowed to stop. Like most things, this comes down to heart posture. God’s love doesn’t change based on what you give up for Lent.
You’re allowed to examine your motives. You’re allowed to stop and rest. That’s not failure—that’s honesty.
Path 3: You’re like me, feeling guilty for not participating.
First, know this: you’re not failing. You’re not spiritually lazy because you’re choosing not to do a hard thing. Maybe the spiritual practice for this Lent season IS releasing the guilt. Maybe it’s rest. Maybe it’s speaking up. Maybe it’s something else entirely. The point is learning to discern invitation from obligation.
There isn’t only one right path for everyone. My parents and my brother’s family observe Lent, and I have the utmost respect for them doing it. It helps to strengthen their faith, and that’s beautiful. I can honor their own journeys while releasing it for myself.
Both can be true. Lent can be beautiful for some AND it’s okay to not observe it. What matters isn’t the practice itself—it’s whether you’re doing it (or not doing it) in response to God’s invitation or in response to guilt. We are not to judge each other over disputable matters (Romans 14:1-4).
The Real Work
Spiritual maturity doesn’t necessarily mean going to every single service, small group, community event, or prayer meeting. It doesn’t mean we have to tithe 90% of our income. We don’t have to do all the disciplines all the time.
Spiritual maturity is knowing which practices feed your soul and which ones feed your anxiety about being “good enough”. When we’re mature in our faith, we can release what was never ours to carry. And we can trust that rest doesn’t always mean we’re backsliding.
So for this Lent, I’m not abstaining from meat. I’m not giving up social media. I’m not adding a Bible reading plan just because it’s Lent season.
Not because these things are bad or because Lent is meaningless. But because when I actually stopped and asked, “God, what are You inviting me into right now?”—the answer wasn’t subtraction. It was addition.
The Holy Spirit is calling me into a season of speaking out. Of using my voice—not just ARMR’s carefully curated voice, but MY voice. For years, my whole life really, I’ve been scared of voicing my thoughts and displeasing someone. But I’m learning that my specific perspective might be exactly what some people need to hear.
So, maybe my Lent isn’t about giving something up. It’s about showing up.
And your Lent might look completely different from mine. Maybe you ARE being called to give something up. Maybe you’re being called to add a practice. Or you’re being called to rest or to speak.
The question isn’t “What should ‘good Christians’ do during Lent?”
It’s “What is God inviting ME into right now?”
And the only way to answer that is to actually listen, not to the guilt, comparison, or what everyone’s posting, but to the gentle, specific invitation of the Holy Spirit.
Sometimes the answer is a practice. Sometimes it’s rest. Sometimes it’s something uncomfortable or something you’ve never done before.
All of it can be worship when it’s offered in freedom rather than fear.
Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom (2 Corinthians 3:17). Not guilt. Not performance anxiety. Not comparison. Freedom.
I started this post eating pepperoni pizza on the first Friday of Lent and feeling guilty. I’m ending it with clarity: my guilt wasn’t from God. It was from religious anxiety. And learning to tell the difference? That might be the most important spiritual discipline of all.
