Each morning during Lent, before the world fully wakes, I step outside and place my feet on the cold ground. I light a braid of sweetgrass and let the smoke rise like a prayer, curling upward into the early light. This simple act is a sacred conversation between Spirit, land and breath. It is how I remember who I am.

In the soft hush of dawn, I stand in ceremony with Creation. I listen to the Earth’s heartbeat beneath my feet, to the whisper of the ancestors carried on the wind, to the steady rhythm of my breath. The smoke rises slowly, becoming a sacred bridge that lifts my prayers to the Creator while grounding me in the teachings I carry as a Two-Spirited Indigenous minister.

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Lent........

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