Today’s devotional comes from Dr. Rebecca Putman. She serves as the Assistant Director of Teaching Innovations in the Koehler Center for Teaching Excellence at TCU, where she partners with faculty across the university to support their teaching and instructional work. She recently shared her research and insight on the intersection of anxiety and AI for Gen Z to the staff in the Division of Student Affairs. We welcomed her expertise in this field as we continue to offer best practices for student support. Rebecca recently moved to Fort Worth with her husband and enjoys being close to their church, University Christian Church, and their youngest daughter, Kate, a first-year Horned Frog. They also have two grown children, Madalyn and Will, and an Aussiedoodle named Winnie. May her words speak to you today and bring your hope and comfort as your Lenten journey continues. –Rev. Lea McCracken, Associate Chaplain
Micah 6:8
“He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”
Reflection:
For me, Lent is a time to slow down and reflect, not only on my own life, but in the communities we share and the world we are living in together. This year, in particular, many of us are entering this season carrying a quiet heaviness. We are experiencing grief over suffering we cannot ignore, exhaustion from constant division, and a sense that hope feels fragile or even naive. When the world seems full of injustice or indifference, hope can feel trite, like something we are told we should have rather than something we genuinely feel.
But Christian hope is not passive. Hope begins by refusing to look away. It asks us to acknowledge pain and injustice clearly, while insisting that despair does not get the final word. Hope is rooted in the belief that our lives and our voices still matter.
Micah’s words remind us that hope is inseparable from action. To do justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly. These are not trite statements but an invitation to transform our hope into meaningful acts. This is our reminder that advocacy does not always look loud or public. Sometimes it looks like listening deeply, protecting the dignity of those who are vulnerable, refusing dehumanizing narratives, or choosing compassion when it would be easier to turn away. In these acts, hope becomes action.
Let us pray:
God of justice and mercy,
When the world feels heavy, and our hope is waning,
remind us of all that is good and faithful.
Give us the courage to acknowledge suffering honestly
and the humility to listen before we speak.
Remind us of the power of hope.
Hope that seeks justice, loves kindness,
and refuses to ignore our neighbors’ pain.
Teach us to be advocates for dignity
and witnesses to a love that is always present.
Amen.