Snow Melt and Heart Melt --Blessed Mid-Point of Lent

Outside my window, the sun peeks through, warming fallen needles as snow melt pelts a tentative blanket of white.  Spring is not here, but she is sending a message that we ought take heart; she approaches.

Yesterday was Laetare Sunday, the Sunday at the midpoint of Lent when the purple on the altar turns to pink as we take a deep breath and drink in a bit of tempered joy.  After all, pink is a happy color, no?

It is a reminder that we are on a journey that has an end. It assures us that the purple of Lent leads to
the white and gold of Easter; that spiritual discipline, self governance, and penance lead to growth, life, and joy.

In life, as in Lent, sometimes things are like that, aren’t they? We find ourselves mired in concerns of a pending job layoff or threats to health or things otherwise at risk—and then someone does something kind, generous, and completely unexpected—and it changes everything. One is suddenly reminded that we are Christ to one another because he works through us. One might, perhaps, have forgotten, until that moment, that Easter approaches and that the fears and concerns of this world are temporary tissue paper threats?  But then, because of the snow melt and the heart melt, one knows that one is a child of a God who watches and loves.

Pax Christi dear ones,

May you be filled with joy and continue to be Christ to the world.