I wrote for 40 days (even if my numbering was a little off) more or less.

I gave up chocolate.

I prayed more.

I avoided negative thoughts.

And I remembered to turn to love in times of emotional distress.

All good things.  If only I could continue these habits and form them into life patterns. 

Easter is here and it befuddled me to turn on Facebook this evening and see how many of my friends are 1) Christian or Catholic and 2) put the words “HE IS RISEN” as their status update

As I read through the joyous brevities of returning to Facebook after a long Lent of abstaining, the wonderful meals dined with family, and portraits of a very fair skinned Jesus copy and pasted throughout my news reel, I wondered what Easter and Lent have taught us now that the two are nearly over (except for the Easter church calendar time period).

I wonder if those of us who break forth with abundant Easter brunches and rejoicing plastic egg hunts stop to carefully reflect on how much of the “rising” we leave up to Jesus and not bother with ourselves.  It’ not hard to hear the complaining during Lent.  Nearly every Catholic I know hates giving something up and no one wants to “do anything extra” because their schedule is already so busy, busy, busy. 

So, what’s the point of Lent and Easter?

What’s the point of talking about what you’re giving up for 40 days and then simply indulge in it on Easter without any reflection of what it meant?  We die unto ourselves, let our darkness go, begin life anew…and no one I know exclaims that they themselves feel renewed.

That is, except one person.

A very special woman who recently was received and confirmed into the church gave me a lovely card last night after the easter vigil mass.  In it, she thanked me for being a part of her journey to becoming catholic and wrote, “Thank you for helping me start a new life in Christ.”

These aren’t the most profound or original words, but there was a heaviness to this message as I read it late last night.  It was almost as if the ink captured her sincerity in addition to her words.  I could smell her gratefulness and excitement to begin this new journey of faith.  And I suddenly felt this immense GIFT to watch people grow and question their belief in God.  It’s truly humbling.

Lent taught me to move through my thoughts.  To allow what is felt, to repress nothing and accept each feeling and thought as a mark on a map of what I need to pay attention.  Quick tempered?  What’s behind my inability to deal with waiting?  Anxious after taking a risk?  Why do I feel so uncertain after making myself emotionally vulnerable to someone else?

Lent taught me that most of life is just like Lent — a time for thoughtful reflection to better ourselves, but most people sell themselves short and stop early in the process.

Easter.  Easter taught me about redemption.  It reminded me that all of us, even me, is made for rising.  It’s not just about a man from 2000 years ago who stunned the world with his radical love and resurrection.  It’s about what We, you and I, learn from that example and after a long Lent, decide to come out of our own caves and embrace ourselves, our light, and endless possibilities to rise.