Over the years, I have tried many different ways of “doing Lent.” I have tried plans., schedules, devotionals. Good intentions.
Some were quite helpful. Some quietly became one more thing to keep up with.
This year, I am choosing something simpler. Instead of adding another structured reading plan, I am going to read the Gospel of John slowly and quietly, noticing just one word or image each day.
No analysing, no researching. I’m not trying to “complete” anything. Just reading… and paying attention.
And if that sounds like something you might need too, I have created a small, free guide:
It is not a workbook or a study guide. It is simply an encouragement to:
• Read a small portion of John each day • Notice one image, word or phrase • Write one line in response
That’s all. There’s no catching up and no falling behind.
John’s Gospel is full of light and water, bread and gardens, doors and shepherds. We think we are reading it, and yet, slowly, it begins to read us. You underline a word… and somewhere along the way, you realise it has been quietly tracing its way through your own life.
If you would like to join me in this gentle way of reading, you can download the free guide.
And if you would like a little companionship along the way, I will be keeping a quiet weekly thread open in the Raising Little Shoots Facebook group.
Nothing formal. No teaching. No pressure.
Just a simple question : What have you noticed? One word is enough.
Lent does not always need more structure. Sometimes it simply needs a little breathing space.
Lent begins on the 18th of February this year, and although Lent has not yet begun, we are already being quietly gathered toward it. This is the part that often goes unnoticed: the season is already doing its work. The light lingers just a little longer in the afternoons. Snowdrops bravely push through the cold earth. Something within us knows that a turning is coming.
Lent rarely begins with a fanfare, instead, it begins with our attention.
Many of us come to Lent carrying mixed feelings. The desire to participate seriously, paired with a weariness born out of our previous attempts. We have tried the rigid plans, the daily tasks, the well-meaning devotionals that quietly assume our unlimited energy and uninterrupted time. And when we fail to keep up, the season can feel like something we’ve failed at.
But Lent was never meant to be a performance of human perfection. Historically, Lent is much closer to pilgrimage than a plan. A walking season, if you like. A slow movement away from the noise and excess, and toward truth; about God, about ourselves, about what actually gives life.
Pilgrimage does not ask us to be dutiful, or perfect participants, it asks us to be present. And this is why I chose to write The Pilgrimage Journal – A Companion for the Sacred Path of Lent . Certainly not from a desire to create another thing for you and I to keep up with, but from the perspective that we can honour Lent as it really is: a season of holy realism. Of dust and God’s mercy. Of walking alongside Christ rather than rushing ahead of Him.
The journal is intentionally not a daily checklist. Life is already full! Instead, it offers a weekly rhythm that leaves space to breathe. Each Sunday acts as a kind of resting place on the road, a moment to pause, reflect, and reorient before we continue the journey, weaving together Scripture, reflection, gentle nature-based practices, and journaling invitations, not to try to force insight, but to make room for it. There are simple candle prayers, quiet questions, and attention paid to the natural world as it moves through late winter into spring. Because Lent does not happen in abstraction. It happens while the land itself is waiting, stirring, and preparing to rise.
We also observe Shrove Tuesday, Ash Wednesday, and Holy Week. We walk slowly and deliberately. We listen. We the season of Lent transform us. This journal is not about becoming better Christians. It is about becoming more truthful ones, allowing God to meet us where we actually are, rather than where we think we should be by now.
It is especially for those who feel drawn to Lent but hesitant of anything that feels harsh or performative. For those who pray best while walking. For those who notice God most clearly in small, living things. For those who want their faith to be rooted not only in words, but in embodied attention. With just over a week until Lent begins, this is a gentle invitation to choose how you want to walk the season. To prepare the ground rather than to rush. To have a companion for the road ahead.
Exploring Nature With Children is an open and go curriculum. To make it even easier, I have created a free calendar for you to download.
If you’re over on Instagram, do pop over and say hello! The Instagram page is very much about community; think of it as your virtual home school co op! Our community uses the #exploringnaturewithchildren hashtag, & also specific weekly hashtags to enable you to connect with other families working through the ENWC curriculum. This week’s hashtag will be: #ENWCearthwormweek
There is a subtle turning point hidden within the early weeks of the year. Winter has not yet released its grip, and yet we become aware of the shift. The light lingers a little longer. Snowdrops pierce the cold earth. Birdsong returns. Spiritually, we often find ourselves in much the same place; not quite ready for the great expanse of Easter joy, but we’re no longer held in the deep stillness of midwinter. This in-between season asks for our attention rather than achievement, and our openness rather than effort,
It is here that a gentle devotional rhythm can become a lifeline rather than another demand.
Faith That Moves at the Speed of the Seasons
Modern life often encourages us to rush from one “meaningful” moment to the next. But the Christian story, when read through the lens of the natural world, tells us quite a different truth.
Late winter and Lent are not seasons of spiritual performance. They are seasons of preparation, listening, and quiet trust. Seeds can not be hurried. Roots form in the darkness, and transformation begins long before it is ever visible.
A gentle companion for February, ‘Sowing Seeds of Light – A Devotional Journey from Winter to Spring’, is written to help you as you begin the quiet transition of the seasons, helping to inspire your faith, and to connect you with the sacred rhythms of the natural world.
Each week offers five guided devotions, weaving together:
Scripture to anchor your reflections
Simple nature-based rituals to engage your senses and spirit
Thoughtful reflections to explore faith, love, and renewal
A candle-lighting prayer to welcome Christ’s light into your day
With two open reflection days per week, this devotional allows you to move at your own pace, making space for quiet contemplation without overwhelm.
Two open reflection days each week create a little breathing room; space to pause, rest, or linger where something has touched your spirit.
The Pilgrimage Journal
A Companion for the Sacred Path of Lent
Lent has always been understood as a pilgrimage, not merely a season of self-denial, but a shared journey of transformation, walked alongside Christ.
The Pilgrimage Journalis designed for grown-ups who long for a deeper, more spacious way of keeping Lent, one that integrates prayer, scripture, creation, and inner reflection without overwhelm.
Designed as a gentle, flexible companion for your Lenten walk, you will discover:
Weekly Pilgrimage Invitations – Reflective themes to guide your journey.
Sacred Sunday Entries – Scripture, reflections, nature-based spiritual practices, journaling prompts, a candle-lighting ritual, and a themed prayer.
A Deep Connection to Nature – Embrace creation as a sacred space to encounter God.
Holy Week Reflections – Special entries for Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday.
Walking Gently, Faithfully, Together
Neither of these resources asks you to strive harder or do more.
Instead, they invite you to walk slowly, to notice where God is already at work, and to trust that transformation unfolds in its own time.
Whether you are standing at the threshold of spring, or stepping onto the sacred road of Lent, these companions are here to support you & your faith.
May this season be one of quiet sowing. May your steps be unhurried. And may you discover, again and again, that God meets us most faithfully in the slow and holy places.
You are not lazy or broken if this time of year finds you tired, slow, or burned out.
Winter has a way of exposing the stories we tell ourselves about productivity and worth. When energy dips and our motivation falters, it is easy to assume that something has gone wrong, that we should be trying harder, pushing through, doing more. But the truth is far kinder to us than that.
Your body is not separate from the world around it. It is made from the same elements as the stars; ancient materials forged long before us, now carrying breath, bone, and blood. The rhythms that shape the natural world also shape us, whether we choose to honour them or not.
Seasonal slowing is real. Shorter days and lower light affect our hormones, our sleep, our energy levels, and even our immune systems. Winter quite literally asks the body to turn inward: to conserve, to rest, to repair. This is not in any way a personal failing. It is our biology, it is wisdom written into our very being.
Nature shows us this pattern everywhere, if we are willing to look closely.
Fields lie fallow, not because they are useless, but because they are being protected for future fruitfulness. Trees draw life down into their roots, storing what they will need for the surge of spring. Seeds rest in the darkness, gathering strength, long before any green shoot pushes through the soil.
This is not failure on our part, it is preparation.
In ecology, dormancy is not an absence of life, but a different expression of it. Energy is conserved. Systems are stabilised. What cannot yet be seen is quietly being made ready. The same being true in human life.
Not every season is for growth. Some are for keeping the roots alive.
If you find yourself craving rest, simplicity, or a gentler pace right now, it does not mean you are falling behind. It means that you are wintering. and wintering is part of how life endures.
There will be seasons for expansion and movement again. But winter does not need to be rushed. It has its own work to do, much of it hidden, much of it sacred in its quietness.
For now, it is important and enough to tend the roots.
Candlemas falls on Monday February 2nd and takes its name from the blessing of candles for use in church throughout the coming year, marking the presentation of the Holy Child in the Temple, where Simeon held Jesus and called him a ‘Light to the World’. For many cultures, February 1st was an important festival to celebrate the returning light.
Here are some links to help with your nature study:
February can appear as a somewhat awkward month for nature study. The brightness of spring hasn’t yet arrived, and the drama of winter has mostly passed. It can be tempting to rush through walks at this time of year, assuming there is “not much to see.” However, in reality, February is one of the most instructive months for learning how to notice.
From a Charlotte Mason perspective, this is a season ideally suited to careful observation, comparison, and the slow building of attention; all skills that we hope to help our child to develop, and that matter far more than knowing names or collecting facts.
Why February Matters
Without leaves, flowers, or full growth to distract us, the structure of the natural world becomes clearer: Trees show their shapes, hedgerows reveal their careful rhythms, and small signs of life stand out more precisely. Thus February teaches our child (and ourself!) that nature study is not about constant novelty, but about noticing change over time.
What to Look for on a February Nature Walk
Buds and Branches Look closely at the buds on trees and shrubs. Some will still be tightly closed; others may already be swelling. Compare different species. Are the buds opposite or alternating? Smooth or fuzzy? Large or tiny?
Early Flowers Snowdrops, winter aconite, and other early bulbs often appear now. Notice where they grow best, under trees, along verges, or in sheltered spots. Are they fully open, or still half-closed against the cold?
Birds Birds become easier to see and hear in February. Listen for repeated calls or short bursts of song. Watch behaviour rather than trying to identify species: feeding, chasing, nesting activity, or quiet observation.
Tree Bark and Trunks With leaves gone, bark becomes a key feature. Look for patterns, cracks, scars, lichen growth, or signs of age. Compare the bark of different trees that grow close together.
Mosses and Lichens February is an excellent month for noticing mosses and lichens, which thrive in damp, cool conditions. Look on walls, stones, tree trunks, and fallen branches. Notice colour, texture, and where they choose to grow.
Seed Heads and Last Year’s Growth Many plants still hold seed heads or dried stems. These tell the story of last year’s growth and provide food and shelter for wildlife. Notice which plants remain standing and which have already collapsed.
Tracks and Signs Softer ground can reveal footprints; human, animal, or bird. Look for nibbled shoots, disturbed soil, or narrow paths through grass and undergrowth.
Walking in February
Rather than covering a long distance, February walks work best when you stay in one place. Choose a short stretch of path, a single hedge, or one tree and spend time there. Ask simple, observational questions:
What has changed since January?
What looks different from last week?
What is clearly alive, even if it is not yet growing?
Children do not need to answer these questions aloud. Often, the act of noticing and pondering is enough.
A Charlotte Mason Reminder
Charlotte Mason emphasised that nature study should be direct and living. Books and names have their place, but they come after first-hand seeing. This is one reason that Exploring Nature with Childrenfocuses less on providing answers, and more on guiding attention, helping parents know what to look for, what to talk about, and how to support children’s noticing without over-directing the experience.
You do not need specialist knowledge to do this well. Careful looking is the skill that February helps us to practice, and it’s one that carries us right through the year.
Nature Notebook Prompt
Choose one small area , a hedge, a tree, or a patch of verge, and observe it closely.
In your notebook, draw or write about:
one thing that has changed since January
one thing that looks exactly the same
one quiet sign of life you might have previously missed
There is no need to label or research, unless your child wishes to.
Each year, Lent arrives and I meet it with a curious mix of longing and resistance.
This season matters. It carries great depth, gravity, invitation. And yet, Lent has become tangled up with ideas of striving, giving things up “properly,” or doing it right , as though the forty days were a spiritual endurance test, rather than a companioned journey.
But historically, Lent was never meant to be a productivity challenge.
Instead, it was a preparation for love.
A Brief History of Lent (and Why it is Important Still)
The roots of Lent stretch back to the earliest centuries of the Church. Long before devotional booklets and daily email prompts, Lent emerged as a season of intentional preparation , particularly for those preparing for baptism at Easter.
The forty days echoed biblical patterns that we recognise, such as Christ’s forty days in the wilderness, Moses’ forty days on Sinai, and Israel’s forty years of wandering.
In Scripture, forty is never about efficiency, or a job well done, but testing, preparation, formation.
Lent was a time when the whole Christian community slowed its pace to walk alongside those preparing for baptism, praying, fasting, and attending more carefully to their lives. Over time, this widened into a season for everyone: a shared turning of the heart, a re-orientation of attention.
When Lent Becomes Too Loud
Somehow, somewhere along the way, Lent picked up noise.
Rules. Targets. Pressure. The quiet assumption that if we are not doing enough, we are missing the point. For those of us already weary, mothers, carers, those navigating illness, grief, or overload, this can make Lent feel like one more thing we are failing at.
And yet, the older rhythm of Lent hints at something quite different.
It says: Come and walk. Not stride out, or perform. Just walk.
Lent as Pilgrimage, Not Performance
A pilgrimage is not about arriving quickly. It is about allowing the journey to shape you.
Historically, pilgrimage and Lent were deeply connected. Both asked for attentiveness, faithfulness, and willingness rather than achievement and certainty. A pilgrim does not conquer her path, she walks it. She notices the weather, her fatigue, the beauty that does indeed surround her, her own resistance, and the companionship by her side.
I wrote this not as a daily task-list, but as a seasonal companion , something you will want to return to, gently, honestly, in the midst of you own, very real life.
Nature and Lent
For much of Christian history, Lent unfolded alongside the land.
In the Northern Hemisphere, Lent sits at the threshold between winter and spring, a time when life is stirring but not yet visible. Seeds are hidden. Buds are tentative. Growth is slow and quite easily missed.
Nature understands Lent instinctively. Nothing is forced or rushed. Transformation is taking place beneath the surface.
The Pilgrimage Journal weaves this natural wisdom into the Lenten journey, inviting you to notice what is lying dormant, what is being asked to rest, and what is quietly preparing to rise, not as metaphor alone, but as a lived, and embodied prayer.
Lent is not about keeping up, it is about staying close.
The Pilgrimage Journal is offered as a companion for that walk, and if you are looking for a way to enter Lent that honours both your faith and your humanity, you can find the journal in the shop now, available at the sale price until Sunday.
There’s something quite refreshing about winter nature study. It’s a season made for noticing small things: buds forming, birds calling, winter colours, and of course the simple pleasure of coming home again to warmth, a cup of tea, and a slice of cake!
Winter strips the year back to essentials. Without the distraction of abundant flowers or long summer days, children will often notice more, the shapes of tree branches, patterns in bark, birdsong, changing light, the quiet signs of life that wait beneath the surface. For many families, this makes winter an ideal time to gently establish (or return to) a nature study rhythm.
But this is also where many parents begin to feel stuck.
We want to do nature study “properly,” but aren’t quite sure what that means. We worry that we don’t know enough. We struggle to find consistency. And, we over-plan… or give up altogether.
Exploring Nature with Children (ENWC) is a gentle, year-long nature study curriculum designed to support parents who want to get outdoors with their children, without pressure, perfectionism, or overwhelm.
ENWC offers weekly guided nature walks that help you to:
know what to look for in the natural world
feel confident starting meaningful conversations with your child
turn ordinary walks into rich learning experiences
It works with the seasons, follows a reliable rhythm, and allows nature itself to remain the primary teacher.
You don’t need to have specialist knowledge, and, as ENWC is ‘open & go’ you don’t need to prepare in advance.
How ENWC works in real life
Each week, ENWC gives you a clear but flexible focus, something to notice, explore, or gently return to during your time out of doors. This guidance helps you to slow down, ask better questions, and the freedom to notice alongside your children rather than feeling you must lead or instruct.
From there, learning flows naturally: children observe, they ask questions and form connections, and they return home with something to talk, draw, write, or think about.
No pressure. No falling behind.
One of the most important features of Exploring Nature with Children is that it removes the sense of failure that is able to creep into our home education.
You can dip in and out, pause for weeks, or linger on a single interest for longer, and because ENWC is written to be used year after year, learning naturally layers and deepens over time. What a young child notices one year will look different when they return to it a year later, and that’s exactly how it’s meant to be.
Who is ENWC for?
Exploring Nature with Children is especially well-suited if you:
are new to nature study and don’t know where to begin
are returning after a long break
want a calmer, Charlotte Mason–inspired approach
are teaching children with additional needs
want structure without rigidity
want to spend less time planning and more time out of doors
It’s equally at home in full-time home education, part-time learning, or simply as a family rhythm alongside school life. Over time, these short, nature walks become something deeper: a shared language, a seasonal rhythm, a way of seeing the world more closely.
Winter Sale: a gentle invitation
If this feels like the kind of support that would serve your own family, Exploring Nature with Children, along with its companion Guided Journal, is currently included in the Winter Sale with 20% off.
Exploring Nature With Children is an open and go curriculum. To make it even easier, I have created a free calendar for you to download.
If you’re over on Instagram, do pop over and say hello! The Instagram page is very much about community; think of it as your virtual home school co op! Our community uses the #exploringnaturewithchildren hashtag, & also specific weekly hashtags to enable you to connect with other families working through the ENWC curriculum. This week’s hashtag will be: #ENWCwinterpondweek
