A Personal Journey Through Holy Week with journaling prompts for soul-tending

We are in the midst of Holy Week. It’s a week that occasionally gets rushed as we are so focused on the exciting experience of Easter.

Yet, this week holds a divine mystery. It reminds us of the art of Holy Waiting. This means we allow ourselves to wait on the slow work of God and not demand certainty or specific outcomes in our lives. We allow ourselves to pause, to breathe, and to stay with Jesus on his journey as we continue along ours.

Holy Week isn’t something to “get through” before Easter arrives with lilies, songs, and hallelujahs.

It’s an invitation.

It’s a slow unfolding of love in real time. And it’s not a tidy love that avoids pain, but a love that goes all in, a love that sits with the ache and refuses to look away.

This is not just Jesus’ story. It’s yours too.

As a writing coach and a spiritual director, I offer this gentle guide to help you listen more deeply to the sacredness within you.

Maundy Thursday: The Tenderness of God

Jesus kneels. Washes dust from feet. Breaks bread and says, this is my body. There is intimacy here. Vulnerability. A love that doesn’t dominate but lowers itself to serve.

Sometimes we resist this kind of love. It’s too soft. Too close. But it’s real.

Journal Prompts:

Where is it hard for you to receive love freely, without earning it?

Who in your life has washed your feet and met you with gentleness when you expected judgment?

Feel free to linger with the memory.

Good Friday: The Cross You Didn’t Choose

There’s no pretending here. This is suffering, betrayal, silence, death. It’s what we don’t want to talk about. But Jesus doesn’t bypass it.

And neither do we.

Journal Prompts:

What part of your life feels like Good Friday right now?

What do you need permission to grieve—without fixing it or forcing a silver lining?

Feel free to let your tears be your prayer today, if needed.

Holy Saturday: The Unanswered Space

Nothing happens. Or so it seems. But beneath the silence, something holy is stirring. A kind of inner death, a stripping away, a holy pause. A Holy Waiting.

This is a liminal space. The in-between. Sacred ground.

Journal Prompts:

What has ended in your life but not yet been reborn?

How are you being asked to wait or let go?

Let the silence be your teacher.

Easter Sunday: The Rising You Didn’t Expect

And then—life. Quiet at first. Mistaken for a gardener. Unrecognizable until your name is spoken.

Resurrection rarely looks how we imagined. But it comes. Soft and true.

Journal Prompts:

What in you is being resurrected—even in small or surprising ways?

What might new life look like, not as a grand event, but as a whisper?

Let hope rise gently.

A Final Blessing

May you be companioned by Love in every step of your journey. Whether it is through celebration, confusion, ache, waiting, or wonder.

And may you know, deep in your soul, that God is with you throughout your life’s experiences.

What whisperings are stirring in your heart? What is God calling you to do?

May you know when to act and when to wait upon the Lord.

May God grant you courage now and always.

Have faith in the resurrection.  

Even here. Even now.

Even in you.

For His Sake,

Katie Rea, WTC Writing Coach