Last I saw, our snowfall total this winter is 80.3 inches. If my math is correct, that’s like 6 feet, 8 inches! Which makes this the eighth snowiest winter on record.
Although the weather folks say we’re not done yet (more coming today, ugh!), we’re at that time of year when the snowmelt has started. The pristine beauty has turned to slushy, muddy, dirty mounds of melting mess. And that melting mess slowly reveals lost things. A pink pacifier over there, which no doubt caused some consternation for a child (and parent). A single, unmatched soiled sweat sock partially covered on the curb. Yesterday, my dog even found a bone she’d lost at some point (she was very happy!) All those lost things now revealed make you wonder, “Hey, what’s the story there?”
Maybe this season of snowmelt is a time to remember lost things and the stories lost things tell. Stories of something missing, something misplaced, something of what’s nowhere to be found. Stories of longing or hungering or thirsting or hoping for something we know we miss so much, but we just can’t put our finger on what it is.
The season of Lent is little bit about that. It’s about asking the question, what is lost in me? What has been silenced, ignored, abandoned, forgotten, or maybe even hidden away at some point? And then, like the woman who lost one of her ten coins, we light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until we find it. And when we find it, we call together our friends and neighbors, saying, “Celebrate with me because I’ve found my lost coin!” According to Jesus, “You can count on this — that’s the kind of party God’s angels throw whenever one lost soul turns to God” (Luke 15:8-10).
Snowmelt leads to Spring flowers. A story of something lost becomes a celebration of something found. The season of Lent prepares us for the joy of Easter.
Much love to you, my friends,
Pastor Gregg
