Tilt

There was something in the Mass this weekend that woke up something inside of me that hasn't been there since Lent--hope.

Lent for me is akin to wading through quicksand, and I guess that's an almost appropriate-sounding analogy, given that our Lord really did walk through the desert. He hungered for food; I hunger for fulfillment. He was tempted; I am tempted. He went to the cross, and I pick up my own and follow Him. Most poignantly of all, though, He asked for it to be stopped, as I do so often. Truly, in every sense, Lent makes us more like Christ. Sometimes, I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

On Saturday, though, when my confessor started using phrases like "the promises of Easter" and "the season of rejoicing" in his homily, I perked up. Lent has been going on for over five weeks now, and while I can't speak for others, I know I'm tired.

Luckily, we've hit that point where the ground is suddenly shifting beneath us. The time is coming when we can cast our chains--both of sin and fasting--away to truly embrace what Easter is. A new beginning.

Of course, before we can begin again, we'll have to suffer patiently for a while longer, as Christ did. The sufferings we endure in these last twelve days are the most real, and also the most difficult.

The most we can do is laugh at our fear, and instead run straight into it, embracing it as we make the last sprint home.

For now, we still have a long way to go. But the tilt is here...