It began yesterday morning, lasted off-and-on throughout the day, and culminated last night. The windowless library helped me forget about it. But as I watched my hometown Villanova Wildcats get embarrassed last night, I was reminded that it had yet to reach its climax. The eerie scrape and scratch of the tri-axle trucks with their flickering yellow lights was just loud enough to make me bump up the volume just a few more notches. Yes, on the second day of spring, winter is alive and well in Goshen.

I write this on the THIRD day of spring. The snow is still lightly falling, and the temperature may struggle to reach freezing today. But I sit in the comforts of Howell House, a cup of java by my side. When the birds and sun returned last week, something in my mind clicked and I returned to spring-mode. We, in Goshen, wait for spring.

Last night, as CBS Sportsline broke for commercials, I continually flipped the channel to taped coverage of the pope's Way of the Cross procession in Rome. I watched Christians proceed through piercing rain around the Colosseum with their black umbrellas raised high, as in a holy confession. Similarly, Christians visited Jerusalem last night in a pilgrimage through the Old City. We, as Christians, wait for Easter Sunday.

Yesterday I waited dreadfully for the climax of the snow. Today, I wait patiently for the climax of Christ's resurrection. For the snow to melt, the birds to sing, and the stone to roll away. For the Eucharist, a celebratory feast for lunch, and my chance to eat sweets again.

As my coffee gets cold, I realize I also wait for my roommate to wake up, for the library to open, for my homework to do itself, and for the end of the semester. But I've waited for forty days before, right? Alas, just another forty and I'm off to Barcelona for Business in Spain.