Sacred disequilibrium

Saturday after Ash Wednesday

Send out your light and your truth, that they may lead me,
and bring me to your holy hill
and to your dwelling.
Psalm 43:3

There is a racket outside my window this morning; I see a couple of birds flitting back and forth from a tree to the corner of our roof and suspect they are once again building a nest in one of the gutters. Can it be that time already? I look more closely at the tree and notice the buds.

I’m not sure I am ready to commit myself to the advent of spring. I am still in my winter mode, programmed to bundle up, be on the watch for icy patches on the walk, stay close to home on cold, dark evenings.

But the difference in the light, both morning and evening, signals that the we are already in the transition to the next season. There is no control button, I realize. No moment when we turn a switch so winter ends and spring begins. Neither is this conversion a smooth transfer from one period to the next; rather it is a riotous journey with unpredictable weather and conflicting signs and disequilibrium.

Nevertheless, spring will arrive in all its fullness and creation will continue to unfurl with abundant life. In this seasonal changeover, in all times of transition, what is steady is the light of God, the presence of the Holy, which continually calls me to come along the sacred way.