A few weeks ago I wrote a story about local Lenten observances that got me to thinking: What is it about this time of year? 

I never paid much attention to Lent growing up; it just wasn’t something on my radar. I vaguely remember hearing that some people gave up things they liked, but to me, the time between Christmas and Easter was more concerned with the end of sledding and the opening of fishing season than with any religious season. Today, I belong to a church that takes it very seriously. Writing about the interchurch celebrations in Moses Lake, Ephrata and Othello reminded me how varied the observances can be, and at the same time, how appropriate for the time of year. 

I think it’s safe to say that the time between Christmas and the beginning of spring is nobody’s favorite. The weather is still wintery, but the snow that was so charming in December is just a pain when February rolls around. There are no major holidays, no breaks from school for the kids. It actually makes sense that Lent, a time of repentance and self-denial, would start during those months when everything is still yucky. 

But the point of Lent is to be a buildup to Easter, and we know that spring is on the horizon. Bit by bit the weather shifts. The first flowers start to poke their way out of the ground; the occasional bird might even sing. Those 40 days are a time when we may change internally while everything else is changing externally. 

The week before Easter is, in many Christian traditions, called Holy Week. It starts with Palm Sunday, recalling Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. That seems triumphant on the surface, like the whole Lent thing is over, but it’s also a reminder that the hardest time is coming. Good Friday is when Christians mark the crucifixion of Christ, and that’s a hard thing to celebrate. We recall the Garden of Gethsemane, the whipping, the humiliation and the horrible execution of the Savior, the sky itself going dark with grief, and we’re humbled and saddened. Saturday goes by in kind of a daze, neither solemn memorial nor celebration. 

But then comes Sunday. The holiest day in the Christian calendar, the day when we shout “Christ is risen!” to the skies. When we celebrate the Resurrection, the long, dreary weeks of Lent seem like a distant memory. 

For people who don’t follow the Christian faith, I think there’s a parallel. The buildup, the return of flowers and birds, the transition from blah to brilliant, still carries a sense of the miraculous. Just a couple of months ago we were cursing at the snow in the driveway; now we look in wonder at the sunshine. In that light, the bright colors, the dyed eggs and even the Easter Bunny, a symbol of vigorous life, still mark Easter as a day to rejoice. 

Easter is only 12 days from now. It’s been a long, hard slog into spring for all of us, believers or not. On April 5, let’s all appreciate the end of one season and the bright beginning of another.