Lent is not a self-improvement project; it is a surrender.

Some of us voluntarily give up something we enjoy for Lent. We think that Jesus sacrificed himself for us so it’s only right that we sacrifice something for him.

This isn’t necessarily wrong. Discipline can be spiritually healthy. But Psalm 51 gently redirects our thinking from what we might give up to what God desires most. David doesn’t volunteer to sacrifice coffee, sweets, or a sedentary lifestyle. Instead, he presents to God something far more meaningful: his brokenness.

“A broken and contrite heart.” Not a perfect heart. Not a heart that has finally managed to fix itself. Not a heart that tries hard to behave. A heart crushed by the burden of guilt and held open by the Spirit so that forgiveness flows in freely.

“My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise” (Psalm 51:17).

We usually think of brokenness as something to hide. But in Lent, God pleads with us to be honest with him and ourselves. Lent is not a season of spiritual performance. It is a season of Spirit-worked humility and repentance. It is a time when the believer’s heart cannot pretend that it is mostly fine but instead must confess: Nothing I sacrifice will ever satisfy a holy God.

So what should we give up for Lent? Not chocolate, unless you want to. Not streaming or social media, unless it helps you focus. Not coffee, unless you feel like ruining 40 mornings.

What we give up is the lie that we can make ourselves righteous.

What we give up is the stubborn insistence that our sins are manageable.

What we give up is our artificial exterior that acts like we’ve got it all figured out.

Lent is not a self-improvement project; it is a surrender. It’s the Spirit-led confession that our hearts aren’t simply sick, dented, or bruised—they are broken. And yet, amazingly, this is the sacrifice God does not despise. He welcomes us with grace. He covers us with Christ. He heals and renews us with his marvelous mercy.

Every year, Lent draws us down the same path: from honesty . . . to repentance . . . to forgiveness . . . to joy. At the end await a cross and an empty tomb—God’s singular solution for every broken heart.

So this year, give up your pretense, your pride, and your self-sufficiency. Give God your broken heart.

He knows exactly what to do with it.

Author: Eric Schroeder
Volume 113, Number 02
Issue: February 2026