Yours is the day, yours also the night;
you established the moon and the sun.
You fixed all the boundaries of the earth;
you made both summer and winter. Psalm 74:15-16
“Maybe we’ll see some blue sky today,” the man says as I nod to him in the parking lot.
“I wish spring would finally come,” my friend comments as I enter the office.
We are all yearning for it—blue skies, warm breezy days, early flowers in bloom, gentle nights. Like many I am weary of snow showers and grey days and biting wind. This morning there was frost on the car windows.
But then, this is spring, I acknowledge to myself. This is always the way of spring. The stormy weather. The promise rather than the reality of warmth. The sparse color. A season of not quite. Not quite warm enough for the spring dresses on display, not quite dry enough for softball practice, not quite beyond winter’s imperative to hunker down and huddle up.
We stand in a not quite time as well, preparing for celebration even as we face into the passion, desolation, and emptiness of the next three days.
We do walk this road alone. Like all that has come before, and all that is about to come, the not quite place belongs to God. There is no landscape that God does not inhabit.
copyright © Anne E. Kitch 2013