Lent, you know, is a time when many people give things up in order to focus more on the story of Easter, the story of God’s love for us. When I typed “The end of Lent,” I was thinking I’d write something funny about how we seemed to have given up well-being, hope for the future, things like that.
But then I had an epiphany. The Langley family has been in a time of Lent for the last . . . oh, I don’t know . . . 16 years or so. And I think it’s about time we came to the end of it. The end of our long Lent. The end of giving up hope.
Having had that epiphany, however, I face a difficulty. There are four people in the Langley family. Five, counting Jasmine, our dog. Jasmine and I are on the same page, I think. Joseph is there sometimes, if it’s not a P.E. day at school. But I can’t exactly have hope for all of us. Can I?
No. Hope has to kind of grow in a person. I don’t think you can just stuff it down someone’s throat. I’ve tried. It’s very tiring, and it kind of annoys the person who’s throat you’re trying to stuff it down.
So what do you do? Watch the peas grow. Smell the roses. Enjoy music. Allow your own hope to radiate. Don’t hold it in. Because maybe the warmth of my hope could stir some seed in another person, and the hope might start growing there.