The middle way

Thursday in the Third Week of Lent

As the deer longs for the water-brooks,
so longs my soul for you, O God.
My soul is athirst for God, athirst for the living God;
when shall I come to appear before the presence of God?
Psalm 42:1-2

I wake with a yearning in my heart which I immediately try to brush aside. There is much to do today, and I don’t want to be distracted. As I begin my day, I try to focus my mind on accomplishing the next task, but the nagging feeling pulls at me.

I am afraid to give it my attention. If I take the time to explore this feeling, it may lead me far astray from the path that I am determined to follow this day. But then I begin to wonder at the consequences for ignoring what is tugging at my soul.

It is the middle of Lent and I am in the middle of the wilderness. I have lost sight of where I began and cannot not yet see past the horizon to a safe haven. Even to move straight ahead is to let go of certainty. And if I veer from my trajectory, who knows where I might end up.

Except I know this place. I know this uncertainly. I know this ache for solace. I have been here before, and I know the answer to the question of when I shall come to appear before the presence of God. I am already here. God is in this moment of thirst. God is in the yearning and the ache. God is behind me on the road already traveled, and God is ahead of me in the wilderness.

God is in this moment of transition. And in the next. And if I pay no heed to this longing, I may miss a spring in the desert, some unexplored beauty or gift, some necessary sustenance.

I lean into the place where my heart has already gone, knowing I am not alone, knowing I will find living water.