March: Returning to the Path
March carries us deeper into Lent, the season of returning : not to guilt, but to God. This is the month where winter loosens, yet spring does not fully arrive. The land and the soul both feel in-between: thawing, but not yet blossoming.
Lent is often misunderstood as a time of self-denial for its own sake. But its heart is far more tender, it is a journey back to what matters. A clearing of space. A softening of the soil. It is less about giving things up and more about turning our faces towards the One who already waits for us.
In March, the Gospel stories are full of walking: Jesus setting His face toward Jerusalem, disciples stumbling behind. Lent is not a sprint, it is a long road walked with honesty, with dust on our feet, and hope that even if we wander, we can always come home.
From the Earth
The landscape shifts in quiet ways. Rain falls more than snow, the earth becomes mud rather than ice, and daffodils lift their heads in yellow clusters in churchyards and roadside verges. Frogs return to ponds, leaving trails of jelly-like spawn. Blackthorn blossom appears, thorny branches tipped with white stars against grey skies.
And yet, many trees remain bare. The air still holds its bite. The ground is soft but cold. March reminds us: growth begins unseen, often long before we notice it.
Those Who Went Before
St Patrick (Feast Day: 17th March)
St Patrick is often remembered with shamrocks and celebration, but the real Patrick is a saint of exile, prayer, and slow return. Born in Roman Britain, he was captured by Irish raiders at sixteen and taken into slavery. Isolated in the hills of Ireland, tending sheep, he began to pray: morning, noon, and night. His faith deepened not in comfort, but in cold, hunger, and homesickness.
After six years he escaped and returned to his family, but the story didn't end there. In a dream, he heard the voices of the Irish people calling, “Come and walk among us again.” And he did. Not as a captive, but as a servant of Christ. He returned to the place of his trauma carrying forgiveness, not bitterness.
Patrick’s life is a Lenten life: wandering, wrestling, hearing God in unexpected places, and finding that even wilderness can become holy ground.
A Prayer in Action
This month, take a short walk, preferably somewhere simple and familiar (a local path, a park, a field). As you walk, do so slowly, breathing gently, and pray with each step:
“Christ before me.”
“Christ behind me.”
“Christ within me.” (or your own variation)
Inspired by the Breastplate of St Patrick, this is prayer not spoken from a chair but prayed with the body, feet on earth. No rush. Just presence.
“Whether you turn to the right or to the left,
your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”
