Encompassed

Wednesday in the Second Week of Lent

Let your loving-kindness be my comfort,

as you have promised your servant.

Psalm 119:76

The rain seems to aid and abet my procrastination as I delay facing into the day. There is nothing ahead to worry me, so I examine my impulse to postpone with suspicion. Am I giving in to a tactic of the enemy who would love to numb my senses? Or am I tired and in need of more rest. And how do I distinguish between rest and avoidance?

Having begun to question, I lean into the Lenten practice of self-examination. I carefully probe my feelings and motivations as if gently examining a wound. And in doing so, I feel the relief of God’s healing touch.

I am safe. I am loved. There is nothing that this day holds that is not already encompassed by the hands of the One who holds the caverns of the earth and the heights of the hills. I breathe in the loving-kindness of God, and stretch into the day.

Alone in prayer

Tuesday in the Second Week of Lent

For God alone my soul in silence waits,

from whom comes my salvation.

Psalm 62:1

As the two of us sit down to dinner, I light the candles in our Lenten desertscape that sits on our dining-room table. The candles are stubs, left over from some other time. I placed them there because Lent seems like the right time for remnants. And they still give light. They are held by the sand that fills a wooden tray, and in between them is a small wooden peg, a person alone in the wilderness.

Our diner table is a sacred place in our home. Countless meals have been served and shared here, countless graces said, countless conversations offered about how the day went. My spouse and I ate and prayed here in the early years, we raised our children around this table, and now this is where we welcome them and their partners home.

I relish the solitude of the wilderness. I am strengthened by the silence. I wait and listen for God’s word. And…I am surrounded by the prayers of others. Those who have crossed the wilderness before me and those who are my companions along the way now. And even those who have yet to set foot on this way. For God’s time is always and God’s way eternal.

Restless

Monday in the Second Week of Lent

For your loving-kindness is greater than the heavens,

and your faithfulness reaches to the clouds.

Psalm 57:10

The fatigue wraps around me like a blanket. I am ready for bed, yet when I see the time, I am surprised; it is really early. But then the day has been full. Of worship, of new music for a new season, of abundant food and community, of deliberations, of sacred conversations, of artistry. Of comfort and of being stretched. 

I can feel my need for restoration in my belly. And I know where to place my exhausted body and soul. In the hands of the One who is ever faithful, who holds me dear, who created kindness and compassion.

God will bring the new day and place me in it, still on the Lenten path, with vast opportunity for the restless wandering that brings me ever closer to where true rest can be found.

Turning

Saturday in the First Week of Lent

Restore us, O God of hosts;

show the light of your countenance, 

and we shall be saved.

Psalm 80:3

The softness of night cradles me as I gently wake. I lie quiet and listen. Wind. Crackling of baseboard heat. Windchimes. A passing car. Familiar creaks of the house. Highway traffic in the distance. And soon the birds. Caws of crows and riotous song of sparrows.

I see light through the window, the beginning of dawn and streetlights, one strengthening while the other wanes. Taking turns.

The seasons in my own life take turns as well. My current yearning in the wilderness nudged aside the bright reflection of the turning of the year. And eventually, it will yield to the fullness of spring and new life.

But not yet. Turning takes the time it takes. And in the meantime, I will bend my ears toward the sounds of restoration. I will keep watch for what will unfold. 

Connection

Friday in the First Week of Lent

The Holy One put a new song in my mouth,

a song of praise to our God;

many shall see, and stand in awe,

and put their trust in God.

Psalm 40:3

The drive takes me along winding roads, through winter-bare forests, across a river and into another state. I arrive to find my friend already waiting for me for our long- anticipated lunch. It has been five years.

Five years along winding roads, landscapes that often seemed winter-bare, across a pandemic and into this new time, this renewed way of being.

Our friendship has weathered this time, as have we. Older. More seasoned. Strengthened by mutual support and respect. Still sustained by a faith in God’s goodness. A faith that is the root of our connection, that grafts us to the tree of life, that calls us to flourish. 

This day

Thursday in the First Week of Lent

Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving

and make good your vows to the Most High.

Psalm 50:14

I watch one neighbor getting into her car for her drive to work and I see another return from her morning run. A school bus passes by. Soon there will be children walking to school. Another Thursday morning in another February in another Lent.

But it is not any day. It is today, and only today. What opportunities will unfold before me this day? Occasions to be kind. Chances to make things right. And many reasons to practice gratitude.

And so I begin, thanking God for the sunshine and for the beginning green of tulips and crocuses pushing through the vestiges of snow. For hot coffee in a favorite mug. For my neighborhood. For each child that walks by my house. For the teachers who cherish them. For a community in which to offer my gifts and grow closer to the Holy One. For this Lent and this time to repent and return and for a Savior who never stops calling me home.

In the moment

Wednesday in the First Week of Lent

God looks down from heaven upon us all,

to see if there is any who is wise,

if there is one who seeks after God.

Psalm 53:2

I smile as I hear my friend’s familiar voice over the phone, and in my mind I can see her smile as well in greeting. I have been trying to unravel a difficult issue, to find a good way forward on a murky road. She is often a sensible guide in such times.

As I lay out my conundrum, my friend is ready with a helpful aphorism, from scripture even, “Do not say, ‘Why were the former days better than these?’ For it is not from wisdom that you ask this.” (Ecclesiastes 7:10). It is not helpful to compare one time to the next, one person to another, one outcome with another. Where we are is now. What’s in front of us is this moment. This time with God.

I laugh happily at this reminder of what I already know. How staying present to the moment is life-giving. That breathing in the holiness that surrounds me will always carry me forward. True wisdom is simply this: to seek God.