Monday in Holy Week
I have come into deep waters,
and the torrent washes over me.
The time has come. I cannot stop the minutes or hours slipping away as my Lenten passage now approaches a certain end. Each day this week has its own place, its own rhythm. And I am ready to be carried along, but I wonder if I will stay above the torrent or be drowned in it.
In the Celtic tradition, a pilgrimage was not so much setting out on a path as setting out onto the waters. To begin the journey was to get into small boat, and then see where God would take you. Can I let go of the last moorings that tie me to a certain stance within the wilderness? Can I leave the desert for the uncertain sea? Can I set myself adrift in this time?
My mother used to say that if you pray for patience, then God will give you plenty of opportunities to practice. Dare I pray to be set adrift?