Lessons for Lent: Breaking the Stranglehold of Social Media

As Lent draws to a close and Easter Sunday approaches—the heart of the entire season—I’ve found myself reflecting on what these weeks have taught me.

During our Bible study this week, our group gathered around the question: How do we refocus our wandering attention and finish this season well? It’s a fair question, especially during Holy Week, which always seems to become a whirlwind of community gatherings, Easter egg hunts, family dinners, and last-minute preparations. There’s a lot competing for our hearts and minds right now.

This year, I layered something new onto the season. If you caught my earlier post, you’ll know I chose to give up social media for Lent, while also embracing daily moments of silence and solitude with God, using two fantastic resources: Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, Day by Day by Peter Scazzero and God on Mute by Pete Greig.

Now, as Lent wraps up, here’s what I’ve discovered.

What I Gained by Giving Up Social Media

A Focused Mind --I knew social media was a distraction, but I underestimated just how scattered my thinking had become. That habitual scroll—checking and rechecking Facebook and Instagram—had rewired my brain for fragmentation. Once I stepped away, my focus returned. Projects that once lingered half-finished found their way to completion, and my mind felt... quieter. Clearer. Stronger.

Emotional Stability --Without a constant stream of highlight reels from friends, influencers, and perfect strangers, the comparison trap lost its power over me. I stopped measuring myself against other people’s curated lives and began to fully appreciate my own unique path. Contentment, it turns out, is easier to find when you aren’t busy trying to live someone else’s story.

A Grateful Heart --When you aren’t feeding on the steady drip of envy, it’s easier to notice the beauty of your own life. I found myself marveling at the good things I already have: my family, my friends, the creative opportunities in each day. Life isn’t perfect—but it’s deeply good. Stepping away from social media helped me remember that.

What I Found in Silence and Solitude

Space to Hear the Best Message Ever --In the stillness, without distraction, one truth kept rising above the noise: I am loved. It's hard to receive this when your life is always noisy, and harder still to believe it when fear and self-doubt try to shout it down. But letting this truth settle deep into my heart quieted my restless spirit. It gave me the freedom to let go of people-pleasing and the courage to walk in obedience, even when others might not understand.

A New Love for Quiet --I hadn’t realized how often I filled silence with noise—music, podcasts, endless scrolling—until I chose to sit with it. And do you know what happened? My thoughts stopped shouting. They didn’t need to fight for attention anymore. Quiet, I’ve learned, is a gift.

A Deeper Connection with the Quiet Creator --This whole experience reminded me of the story in 1 Kings 19, where Elijah, in the depths of despair, searches for God. He expects to find Him in the dramatic—wind, fire, earthquakes. But God comes in a whisper. In the stillness. If quiet feels intimidating or unfamiliar, Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund has been a companion for me. His reflections on the tender heart of Jesus can help soften even the most guarded heart.

More Than Just a Lenten Practice

This season has reminded me that these practices—giving things up and taking things on—aren’t just for Lent. They’re tools for anytime we want to reset and realign. Choose your focus. Set a timeframe. And surround yourself with people who will walk with you, especially on the hard days.

I’m so grateful I took this on. My Lent experiment wasn’t perfect, but it was transformative. And I’m already asking myself: what else in life could change, simply by making space for quiet?