Lent is long — just over six weeks. And all that time we’re in the desert or wilderness of the liturgical year. We’re fasting, praying, giving, reflecting, praying some more — all in an effort to draw closer to God. And if the Israelites in the desert are any example, feeling “close to God” was sometimes a challenge amidst their everyday (wilderness) lives. And that’s true for us today. At least for me it is. So, Lent can feel, well — really long.
This Lent was in total — with this freak white stuff on the ground today — a part of winter. I know, I know — spring started about one month ago. I even wrote about the beginning of spring in this blog! But I put on a winter coat this a.m. And I’m sitting at my desk in corduroy pants and a sweater. Give me a break.
Back to Lent — while it (like this winter) might feel at moments like it will never end, a part of me doesn’t want it (Lent!) to. I have enjoyed this practice despite and maybe because of the challenges.
Another part of me is looking forward to the end because I know there is light at the end of the tunnel. The end of Lent is Easter. There is light in the empty tomb (although if that tomb were in New York City today, you would need to sweep the snow away).
It’s not Easter yet, but it is coming. Once we make it through a few more long nights, a few more ups and downs, a few more moments of Lenten reflection, solitude, and maybe even our own personal Garden of Gethsemane moments (pick your character), we will get there.
And spring, I feel the same way about you at this point.