Talashia Keim Yoder, writer of MC USA’s 2026 Lent at Home worship guide, reflects on how intentional family Lenten practices help us “dwell in dissonance” — embracing the tension of a broken yet joy-filled world — and invites households to deepen their walk with Jesus.
Talashia Keim Yoder lives in Goshen, Indiana, with her husband and two children. She is a pastor at College Mennonite Church, Goshen, Indiana, the writer for MC USA’s Advent at Home and Lent at Home worship guides and is the content provider for www.buildingfaithfamily.com.
Download the 2026 “Lent at Home” worship guide, titled “Dwelling in Dissonance,” here.
http://www.buildingfamily.com
Most of my childhood memories of Lent revolve around Ash Wednesday. Our congregation would eat sausage and pancakes, then we’d process upstairs for an Ash Wednesday service. Often, at some point in the evening, we’d be encouraged to “give something up for Lent,” and, inevitably, I’d join most of my peers in giving up chocolate (I think I only made it to Easter with my fast once). I was a conscientious and curious kid, and my church and family were good at explaining intention – and yet I don’t have a memory of really understanding Lent during those growing up years.
Then, when I was a freshman at Hesston College in Kansas, my classmate Kristin gave up her curling iron for Lent. Vanity was getting in the way of following Jesus, so giving up the curling iron removed a barrier. The next year, she gave up forks. She felt a nudge to slow down, pay attention, be grateful and listen, and setting aside the fork was a way to follow that nudge. Kristin’s Lenten fasts had purpose. They weren’t about deprivation but about coming closer to God. Lent began to make a different kind of sense to me.
When my children were small, the rituals of Lent became more important. We experienced the power of Advent to lead us to a meaningful celebration of Jesus’ birth. Allowing Lent to lead us to Jesus’ resurrection was a natural next step. Lent is a penitential season, and we defined our focus as confessing our humanity and asking Jesus to help us be our best human selves. We began experimenting with candle rituals, one of which is part of this year’s “Lent at Home” resource. We learned to keep it simple, because Lent is LONG. Inspired by Traci Smith’s Lenten calendar, I created an Anabaptist version for our household – yet another experiment that has become part of the “Lent at Home” worship guide. Those calendar prompts led us into scripture, activities and family conversations that opened us up to life with Jesus. We always missed days on the calendar, but we learned to treat the prompts as ideas rather than assignments.
Then our children got a little older, and we revisited fasting. We asked, “What will clear the clutter and simplify our lives so that we can be our best human selves and come home to God and each other?” My favorite year was when our children were 7 and 10. We each had one set of silverware, one plate, one bowl, one cup and one mug for the whole season of Lent (except Sundays!). The best part for me was that each person was responsible for washing their own dishes to have them ready for the next meal. That simple fast helped us understand “enough.” It slowed us down a little and helped us remember the confessional season every time we ate.
I could tell more stories. Each year, Lent reveals something else to me about the human-divine relationship. Lent is meant to help us bring our lives, our spirits and our relationships into alignment with the call of Jesus. If we let Lent do its work, we’re led to discoveries and growth that go far beyond resisting our craving for chocolate.
I’m not sure exactly what growth this new Lenten season will bring. My soul feels conflicted most days. I’m heartbroken by the news every day. Sometimes I’m full of action, and sometimes I’m frozen. I’m exhausted by conflict. I’m worried. And yet, there’s deep joy. I laugh every day. The world is a mess, and daily life continues. It’s a dissonance of the spirit – many things can be true at the same time. This year, maybe my journey will take me into that deeply human truth.