I would flee to a far-off place
and make my lodging in the wilderness.
With no morning rush for school or work or activities, the quiet of the house extends beyond its usual time frame. I relax more deeply into contemplation. My mind wanders far and wide over recent events and those long past. I feel like a bird, slowing soaring in solitary flight over a measureless territory.
I am grateful for this season that propels me into the discipline of the desert. Every time I make the Lenten passage, I discover again that the wilderness is vast. And varied. It contains the challenges of rough and unknown terrain. Shifting landscapes. Lament and self-examination.
It also holds the promise of refuge. Of perspective that comes from stepping away from the tumult of my daily life. Of encountering resources when I expected scarcity.
This is not a place to hurry. It is a place for stillness. And breath. And honoring the holy.
Photo Credit: Anne E. Kitch