Tuesday in the First Week of Lent
Clap your hands, all you peoples;
shout to God with a cry of joy.
Psalm 47:1
The day continues to warm and brighten, until by afternoon the entire community seems giddy with thoughts of spring. It is early in the season yet to rely on warmth and gentle weather. Yet the call to playfulness is hard to resist.
With the change in time, the daylight stretches into the evening hours, and even though I have worked late I am lured out for a brisk walk before dinner. I choose a path along the creek, the way not yet quite clear of snow and ice and winter debris. I step carefully, reminding myself that the trail, like the weather, may change unexpectedly. I walk in a transitional stretch.
The beginning of Lent is also a liminal time. Called to a season self-reflection, we can be intentionally somber about our need for change of heart and practice and life. And, it would be a misstep to think this is all Lent has to offer. Along this way is room and necessity for joy.
As I turn to head home, a boy and his father pass me on their bikes. We greet one another with smiles, strangers acknowledging our mutual enjoyment of this unexpectedly brilliant gift of a day.
