As we left evening prayer on Wednesday night, a cacophony of frogs greeted us. The birds have been announcing spring is here for several weeks, but when the frogs join the song I know it is true. Soon the plants will follow with buds and flowers and an explosion of green.

Our ancestors in the faith sensed the importance of this seasonal shift and set aside 40 days for us to prepare and clear out our lives for its arrival. Many Christians still practice Lent, from the Anglo-Saxon “lencten,” which means “spring.” (And, for those wondering why the season starts at different times, it is based upon the Spring Equinox and first full moon following it. Easter falls on the Sunday after the full moon, so then you count back 40 days — not counting Sundays — and this is when Lent begins.)

Forty days to prepare for baptism; some make parallels to baseball’s spring training. 40 days in the wilderness, facing our “demons” as Jesus did before he began his ministry. Forty days to unlearn old patterns, let go of past trauma and fears, before entering the promise land like the Hebrews did in the desert for 40 years. Forty days to be washed clean by God’s grace and reboot, for the new creation God has begun and we will celebrate come Easter morning.

It is true, Lent can carry a penitential, minor key, giving up, repentant, self-denial tone. Something, most of us don’t really want to do. Self-reflection, discipline, not getting to eat chocolate and admitting we might be failing God, each other, creation and/or ourselves. For 40 days. Who has time for that? No thank you.

And yet, I see the activity in people’s yards around town. Raking, clearing out flower beds, tilling and preparing the soil for planting, removing broken branches, and pulling those early weeds. Efforts to make room for what will spring forth in the days, weeks, and months ahead. Assessing the soil, how plants did in different areas, making adjustments, planning for seeds to be planted and new life to grow.

What if this was the way we approached our spiritual lives; our relationship with God and each other? Instead of giving up, we assess our lives and make room for what really matters?

In this often noisy, cluttered, busy, fast-paced world we live in, if we don’t stop, breathe, and take a time out with God on a regular basis, it costs us. In a world, which too often measures our worth by what we produce, how much we accumulate, and what we do for a living, God knows where all this leads. Our relationships, our health, our communities, and creation suffer.

God knows the cost, because Jesus came to say no to this way of life. He came to show us a different way. An unhurried, patient way of healing, forgiveness, and justice for those trampled by our break-neck pace. Jesus showed us what is enough for abundant life, but we wanted more. So, we shouted, “Crucify him.” Nailed him to the cross. Sealed him the tomb.

Unhurried, three days later, God rolled back the stone.

Thanks be to God. Alleluia. Spring is here. Another chance to live this abundant life for all.

Lori Morton is pastor at First Lutheran Church in Sandpoint.