A few years ago, I realized something about myself while using GPS. When the voice says, “Turn right,” I usually trust it. I do not need the whole map. I do not need to see the destination. I just need the next step.
But the moment the GPS says, “Recalculating,” I get tense. I want control back. I want clarity. I want certainty.
Most of us are fine with God as long as life stays understandable. When things are steady, prayer is easier. When the days are calm, we can say, “Yes, Lord,” without thinking too much.
But when life gets messy, when plans change, when something hurts or drags on, that is when we learn what we actually trust. That is when it feels like life is “recalculating,” and we realize how much we depend on control.
That is why today’s readings fit Lent so well. They speak to people who are trying to follow God, but would also like a little more clarity.
In the first reading, God says to Abram: “Go.” And Abram goes.
What stands out to me is how little detail Abram gets. God does not lay out the whole plan. He does not explain every step. He simply calls him forward.
That is hard for us. We like to know where we’re headed. We like to know how it will work out. We like proof before we move.
But faith usually does not work that way. Faith is often God giving enough light for the next step, not for the next five years.
In the Gospel, Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up the mountain. And they see something they were not expecting.
They see Jesus shining with glory. They see Moses and Elijah. They hear the Father’s voice:


It is a powerful moment. But it is not there just to impress them.
Jesus is heading toward suffering. The Cross is coming. The disciples are going to be confused and scared. They will watch things fall apart and not understand what God is doing.
So Jesus gives them this glimpse of who He really is. Not to let them escape, but to help them hold on later.
Many of us know what that is like.
Sometimes God gives you a moment that strengthens you. A line in Scripture that hits you. A prayer that finally feels honest. A quiet peace in church that you cannot explain. A person who says exactly what you needed to hear.
Not every day is like that. But those moments matter, because they carry us through the days that feel heavy.
Peter blurts out: “Lord, it is good that we are here.” And he wants to build tents and stay.
I get it. When something is finally going well, when your heart feels calm for a minute, the last thing you want is to go back down into regular life. Back to stress, problems, old habits, complicated people, unfinished work.
But Jesus does not let them stay.
They go back down the mountain.
Because the point is not to collect spiritual experiences. The point is to be changed, and then to live differently where it actually counts.
The Father does not give them a list. He gives one clear direction:
“Listen to him.”
That is the heart of Lent, and honestly, it is the heart of discipleship.
Listening to Jesus is not only hearing words. It is taking Him seriously in daily life.
So here is a very down-to-earth question for this week:
Where have you been avoiding Him?
Maybe you already know the answer.
Maybe it is a habit you keep excusing.
Maybe it is a relationship where you keep holding the grudge.
Maybe it is a truth you keep pushing away because it makes you uncomfortable.
Maybe it is a part of your life you keep managing without prayer.
Maybe it is a change you know you should make, but you are dragging your feet.
Listening starts when we stop arguing with Him.
At the end, the disciples are afraid. They fall down. And Jesus comes close. He touches them and says:
“Rise, and do not be afraid.”
That is a very human moment. Fear is not theoretical. It is real. And Jesus does not shame them. He does not lecture them. He comes near.
Then the Gospel says they look up and see “Jesus alone.”
I like that detail. Because after the emotions settle, after the dramatic moment passes, what remains is not the light show. What remains is Jesus.
And that is enough.
So if Lent has not been perfect so far, you are not behind. If you are tired, or distracted, or starting over again, you are still in it. If you have a lot on your mind right now, Jesus is not waiting for you to “get it together” first.
He is simply asking you to keep walking with Him.
One step. One decision. One honest prayer. One act of letting go. One act of trust.
And here is the last thing I would say. When your life feels like it is “recalculating,” when you cannot see the full route, God is not absent. God is still speaking. Often, He is giving you exactly what Abram received: the next faithful step. And He is giving you what the disciples received: not an escape from the valley, but Jesus with you as you walk back into it.
And when you have to go back down the mountain, you do not go alone.
Amen.