If

February 22, 2026

 

I could hear the desert in her voice.


She told me she was quickly approaching her 90s, having spent a lifetime caring for an alcoholic husband. “I thank God,” she said, “that his disease really only manifested itself in depression and little bursts of anger from time to time.” Now he’s slowly slipping away as a result of Alzheimer’s. She’s left to care for him on her own; her children never come anymore. Too busy. Too angry. No faith.


She tired and scared, she admitted. “If I were a better wife and mother, we’d all be in a better place.”


If. The word Satan loves the most.


In the desert, he tells Jesus: If you are the Son of God, you’ll turn rocks into bread, jump and be caught, bow-down in order to be worshipped. 


If – meaning: prove it, because I don’t think you’ve got what it takes.


How many times have we spoken to ourselves, or have had others speak to that insecure space that lives inside each of us: “If you really loved me, you’d (fill-in-the-blank).” “If I were a better person, spouse, student, I’d (fill-in-the-bank).” “If I was only better-looking, richer, had more power, I would be able to …”


If.


Satan knows exactly when to throw the “if’s” at us. He did the same to Jesus. They always come when we are exhausted, scared, or at the end of our rope. Notice that Satan waited to manifest the “ifs” to Christ when he was nearing the end of the desert-journey, not at the beginning.


When we entertain the “ifs” too long – and when we let Satan keep whispering the ifs into our lives – then we run the risk of allowing the ifs to become sins.


If I wasn’t so lonely … but I am, so I will turn to mindless hours of scrolling or pornography.


If I wasn’t so sick … but I am, so I will complain and be bitter and take it out on my loved ones.


If I wasn’t struggling financially … but I am, so I will lie and cheat and do whatever it takes to get ahead.


Perhaps the whole point of this First Sunday of Lent – maybe even the entire journey of Lent – is to allow our deserts to change us from living in the constant “ifs” to fighting back with the “get aways.” It is the last word Jesus spoke into the desert: “Get away, Satan.”


Because He went to the desert for us – experienced the very desert moments and the “ifs” that we ourselves would face on our journeys – Jesus showed us how to fight back.


The ifs have no power when we send Satan packing. Truly, the gift of Lent – and the time we spend in the desert of these 40 days – is meant to be the way grace and the Holy Spirit transform our desires to live in sin and run from God into the means by which we stand-up to the forces of evil that long to drag us away from healing and hope, light and love.


We fight back when we spend time in the Word. We fight back when we make the effort to pray daily. We fight the “ifs” when we go to receive the Lord’s forgiveness in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. 


Jesus equips us with everything we need to speak into the lies of Satan. What Adam and Eve wouldn’t do in the Garden, we must say (and say often) in the desert: “Get away, Satan.”


Many years back, I met a young father raising quite a few young children. By all accounts, he seemed happily married and successful in his line of work. He coached Little League for his oldest; drove his youngest to her weekend dance recitals. “Everybody’s ready to nominate me for ‘Man of the Year,’” he said, “but there’s one problem: I’m a train wreck inside.”


As he revealed his heart, he shared that he had been unfaithful and selfish. He worked too much and put wealth above all else. He was judgmental and hateful – always stuck in his own head. He put on masks of having it all together, but in the depths of reality he lived in the ‘ifs’. Satan fought hard to make him lose his way in the desert, and he nearly won countless times. 


I asked this Dad why he keeps fighting, why he doesn’t just give-in to the “ifs” of Satan. He answered by pointing to the crucifix that hung on the wall behind where I was sitting. “His Love there [on the Cross] makes me not give-in or give-up.”


And thus, the final piece of understanding the fight in the desert: No matter how rough or long the journey; no matter how many “ifs” Satan throws at us – Christ has already won the battle on our behalf. We win because He went there for us.


The desert prepared Jesus for the ultimate battle, and it was a battle of love: a battle to break the chains of sin and death; a battle to conquer all the ‘ifs’ that speak lies into our lives. God Himself faced the temptations we face so that He could show us that the desert doesn’t end in defeat. With Him, it ends in Resurrection and new life. Always.


But we have to be willing to go there with Him. Into the desert. Up the road to Calvary. When we go, He is already there beside us, and we find victory in Him.  Satan may want us to live in our shame, but Christ will always lead us to the healing that comes when we are willing to fight back in the desert and come to the Cross, which is Love and Mercy itself.


As we begin Lent, don’t be afraid of the desert. The ifs can’t hurt us, especially when we have our battle plan: The Word and Eucharist; prayer; Confession; the intercession of Mary, the saints and this faith community.


Speak back to the “ifs” with the “Get away, Satan” tools we’ve been given: the sign of the Cross; the words of absolution; the willingness to offer our deserts and crosses to be united to His, the One where we find hope and truth – a way forward.


This Lent can be a powerful time to put the ifs to rest forever, to lay them at the Cross. Speak back to the lies of shame by coming to Confession and to Mass. The desert can actually be the beginning of incredible healing if we are willing to enter it with Jesus. Let Him lead and heal as you go.


For that sweet 90-year-old woman who lives the Cross of a family torn-apart as well as for that father who lived hidden lies for so long, they responded to the grace God gave each of them to turn away from the ifs and use their voice to proclaim: “Get away, Satan.  You’ll never win.”


Love already has – on the Cross. And his name is Jesus Christ.



Allow that Love to transform your “ifs.”


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