After the Rain

I guess I had forgotten how grungy the world can look in late winter.

After the rains of last night it appears that all the worst in our yard and on our street has been uncovered. There is the trash that had accumulated under the cover of the snow and the push of the snow plows. There is the debris that had blown into corners and covered with drifts. There are those spots in the grass torn by the blade of the snow plow with the nearby clods of sod in mangled array.

My, how grungy our world can look in late winter.

For some, this season we call Lent has the same feel about it. Partly because our spirits tend to reflect the world and nature around us. I know mine does. Indeed, we are pretty deep (just over half-way) there. Along the way, we long for the good news of the resurrection, but it's not quite time. Along the way, we long for an announcement of victory, but it isn't quite time.

We know, though, that soon the grass will be green, the grunge washed away, the flowers blooming and the trees greening. We know that life always comes after winter's death.

In our faith, we know the end of the story too. God's new life always wins. The grave can never stay closed. Darkness cannot beat out light. Sin is always forgiven.

In these days, we live with the grunge and in-between times as we await the glory of new life and the transformation of the resurrection. In these days we live with the sure and certain hope of new life, of God's new life in and for us.