One Final Reflection for February ~

As I write this, it is the first Friday of Lent. For some, it may pass quietly. But as I sit down to write the final Sunday reflection of February, I feel invited into a kind of examen for this month.
February has always held weight for me.
It is my birth month. This year, I turned 56. Yet, I can still vividly remember my golden birthday, ten on the tenth, in 1980. I received a ten-speed bike. I can still see the handmade card my mom made: Hold your breath and look inside - You're going for a fantastic ride!  I remember throwing my hands in the air and screaming with excitement.
The limitlessness of life stretched out in front of me.
February is also the month my dad passed away unexpectedly fifteen years ago. I can also transport myself back to that moment instantly. The shock and the strange out-of-body feeling of grief remain with me.
As painful as that season was, I believe his passing set something in motion.
At the time, I started to carry a quiet belief that my dad could somehow see my internal struggle. The parts of my life I kept hidden, the fear and shame I was too afraid to name. His death marked the beginning of an unraveling I could not yet understand.
If I were to map out the last fifteen years, the changes would be undeniable. Sometimes even unbelievable. But what stands out most is not the events, but God's patience.
The end of Act II.
The long Intermission.
And now, stepping into Act III.
I can see clearly now that nothing was wasted. Everything was shaping me for a purpose I couldn’t yet see, and still don’t fully understand. God’s will is funny like that.
This morning I found myself reminded of a simple prayer:
Lord, empty me.
Lord, fill me.
Lord, use me.
When I sit with those words, I realize how deeply they echo my journey and the spirit of Untucked.
Living untucked has felt like dying and being reborn more than once. There were seasons of shedding the false self, the self I tucked, performed, and endured.
Now, choosing to live fully, I understand the paradox because I am no longer willing to shrink to fit someone else’s narrative.
This journey was never about elevating the ego.
It was about dying to it.
To live untucked is not self-indulgence. It is surrender. It is exposure without shame. It is standing fully seen, with nothing left to hide from my father or my Father.
February has been a month of courage.
Courage to rise.
Courage to arrive.
Courage to be seen.
To show up fully in strength and in weakness.
As we continue into this Lenten season and move slowly toward spring, I invite you into the same gentle practice: stillness. True Sabbath rest. An honest reflection of what is being emptied and what is being reborn.
Hold on tight.
You’re going for a fantastic ride!

​J~