March 12, 2012
Restore us, O God of hosts;
show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved. Psalm 80:3
I sit outside soaking up the unexpected warmth. The winter has been mild, yet even so the early spring day carries in its breeze hope of new life and change. The light bears a different quality than it did only yesterday.
Amidst the tasks of the day, it is this unlooked for moment in the sun that ushers me into the presence of the holy. An ordinary moment.
I had not thought it would be warm enough to leave my jacket behind in the house. Even as I went out, I expected cold spring air to drive me quickly back inside. Instead I stay and savor.
Once I moved from the Midwest forests to a desert clime. As fall came I despaired. The days seemed endlessly sunny and warm, as if time moved not at all. Later I learned in that particular place the note the subtle shift of seasons. Even in the desert, the seasons change.
It is time to shed layers, to leave behind the burdens of winter, to lift my face to the light and be restored.
copyright © Anne E. Kitch 2012
