Every year, Lent invites Christians into reflection. Many people give up food, comfort, or daily habits. Yet in the modern digital world, stepping away from constant posting can feel like one of the hardest sacrifices.
Last year, my Lenten journey took a different path. I gave up my small obsessions with collecting sarees and growing long nails. Those habits seemed harmless, yet they quietly fed vanity and attachment. Letting them go taught me that Lent is not just about giving up something large. It is about noticing the small things that slowly shape our character.
This year, the challenge felt deeper. I decided to fast from posting on social media. For a writer and poet, that choice felt almost ironic. Words usually rush out of me and find their way onto a timeline. Yet silence offered something I had forgotten.
That is where Lenten poems often begin. When the noise fades, reflection grows stronger. Faith speaks more softly but more clearly. Poetry then becomes less about performance and more about inner truth.
The poem below emerged from one such moment. I almost broke my vow to stay silent online. Temptation stood very close. Yet the vow reminded me to wait.
Many Lenten poems about temptation, patience, and spiritual discipline come from such quiet inner battles. This one carries a small lesson from my own journey through Lent. And I hope you will all love it. Kindly share your thoughts and experience in the comments. To read the Lenten poem, you have to read until the end!
A Vow Against The Feed
A few days before Ash Wednesday, a friend asked me a simple question.
“What will you give up for Lent this year?”
I told him the truth. I rarely attend Sunday Mass in person. Most Sundays, I watch online sermons, often from Joel Osteen. So my first vow felt clear. During Lent, I would join the live telecast of church services every Sunday. I wanted to pause my routine and return to prayer more intentionally. Surprisingly, on the very first Sunday, I got answers to my long-pending questions too.
Then I spoke about my second vow. I wanted to slow down and listen more. I promised myself I would stay patient with elders, listen to their advice, and show respect even when their opinions differed from mine.
My friend shared his own decision. He planned to stay away from social media for the entire Lenten season. The idea lingered in my mind for a moment. Then it struck me with quiet force. Why not try something similar?
I said I would stop posting on social media for Lent.
He laughed gently and warned me. “That is a hard vow for a writer.”
Still, the decision felt right. I had already spent years sharing words online. This time I wanted silence. I wanted space between thoughts and reactions. So the vow began.
And something unexpected happened. The quiet felt good.
What Social Media Fasting During Lent Taught Me
The first few days felt strange. I opened the apps out of habit. I read the posts of fellow poets and writers. I watched conversations move quickly across timelines.
But my own wall stayed silent.
Instead of speaking, I listened.
Instead of rushing to comment, I paused and observed. The silence brought a small but powerful shift. I began to notice the difference between creating for meaning and posting for attention.
The Sunday services helped me slow down as well. When the church prayers streamed through my screen, my thoughts softened. Faith no longer felt like a rushed ritual squeezed between tasks. It felt like a quiet appointment with reflection.
The second vow changed my daily conversations, too. Listening to elders without interrupting brought surprising wisdom. Their stories carried patience that our generation often forgets. Their advice reminded me that life does not move at the speed of notifications. I slowed by to see what happens in their world. It looked astonishing.
Gradually, I noticed another change.
Without the pressure to post, I looked at my past work with new honesty. Some poems felt strong. Some looked ordinary. A few felt immature. Yet that discovery did not discourage me. It felt freeing.
Silence gave me a clearer mirror.
Social media often pushes us to produce constantly. But creativity sometimes grows better in stillness. The pause allowed my thoughts to mature before they turned into words.
This Lenten fast did not silence my voice. It strengthened it.
By stepping away from the noise, I began to hear my own mind again. And in that quiet space, poetry slowly returned.
The Quiet Temptation: Lenten Poems From My Experience
I was about to fail
I will break one of my Lenten vows today.
Not to post anything on social media
It was easy to say.
Many times I opened these apps
Read the posts of fellow poets
But I didn’t post anything on my wall.
It felt good to listen rather than shout loudly.
I haven’t written poetry since Ash Wednesday.
But today, when I came across my past posts
I felt some were so good, some mediocre
And some of the worst, even immature
That was nice to see back and judge myself.
But then something stopped me
I could see my mistakes and my strengths
I felt like I had to correct myself the very moment
And start posting immediately
But then the vow said to me
Wait for a few more weeks
And I didn’t post anything!
by
Shalini Samuel
Another Lenten Poem More Like A Scribbling
Lent has been a season when I have changed for the better.
Not much into man-made religious rituals or superstitions
But I wish I could stay in touch with the Almighty
And delight in his cosmic play.
As every minute unravels something wonderful.
I see that
There is beauty in the way he governs the world.
And He speaks to those who listen.
Today, war clouds fog my present
Changes annoy me
Stability is something I prefer
On a stable sky, I can paint my vivid dreams
And God is the only stable wall I know of.
by
Shalini Samuel
