Yes, I know. We did get a few more inches of snow last night. But it’s a spring snow. It’s light and fluffy – not your typical slushy spring snow, I’ll admit – but it’s quiet as cotton to walk on. Gone is the winter crunch I love so much. I don’t expect to hear it again this year.
Already long stretches of pavement are exposed where the snow has melted off. I can touch my dog’s collar bare-handed and my fingers don’t stick to the metal buckle. The snow still catches against her muzzle when she shoves it, snorting happily, into the drifts. But frost no longer coats her eyelashes. Her breath no longer spouts a smoky halo as she runs. Icicles no longer drip from in her whiskers.
My face still flushes with cold. I still wear a windbreaker and a heavy fleece and my winter boots. The wind is strong and from the north, but the sting is gone. Winter may deliver another cold snap, but deep down I know, even as I walk through freshly fallen snow, that winter is over.
Victory belongs to spring.
It doesn’t matter, now, what else winter tries. Time is on spring’s side. The days are getting longer. Yesterday I saw robins in the bushes and tree buds pregnant with expectancy. New life is there, even today, sitting quietly in the snow. It will come. It always does. For still the vision awaits its appointed time; it hastens to the end – it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay (Habakkuk 2:3).
We enter this week into the season of Lent. Much like winter, Lent is a season of preparation and remembrance. We anticipate the new life – our new life – that is celebrated on Easter Sunday. But first, we need to prepare.
Liturgically, Christmas and Easter are only separated by a few months. But historically, these two events were separated by several decades. Lent reminds us that Jesus grew up human, like us. He felt anger (John 2:13-17). He felt sadness (John 11:35). He felt compassion (Mark 6:34). He was tempted by Satan (Matthew 4:1-11). He was afraid (Luke 22:41-44). You might say that Jesus went through a winter unlike anything you or I will ever have to experience.
Lent also offers us an opportunity to reflect on our own winter struggles. Who among us has never walked in some fashion through our own valley of the shadow of death? Lent allows us to stare darkness in the face and say, “Time is on our side!” It doesn’t matter, now, what else the darkness throws our way. The days are getting longer. The victory has already been won.
Once and for all, Jesus nailed sin to the tree. He took it with Him to the grave, and He left it there when He came back. Jesus carried our sins as far away from us as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12). This doesn’t mean we never sin; we live in a world still choked with sin. It also doesn’t mean we never feel pain, or sorrow, or fear. Even Jesus himself felt those things. What it does mean is that none of those things will matter in the end. Or perhaps more accurately, those things are what make the ending matter even more.
Sometimes life is a bit like tromping through spring snow. It’s cold, it’s dark, and the wind is hard and from the north. But do not let appearances deceive you. Deep down, we can know that victory belongs not to darkness, but to light; not to winter, but to spring.
Lent reminds us that even the darkest winter will not last forever.
When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.” “Oh death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 15:54-57).