Saturday in the Fifth Week of Lent
My soul is athirst for God, athirst for the living God;
when shall I come to appear before the presence of God?
Psalm 42:2
The Lenten landscape feels oddly quiet in this moment. Almost a lull after yesterday, which began grey and heavy, then lightened up as the sun ushered in afternoon warmth, soon to be riled up by fierce wind.
The geography of this journey, like the weather, is irregular and unsettled, reliable only in its constant ability to challenge my sense of where I am and how I am doing. What should my next step be? It seems I have been on this way for a lifetime, and it seems too soon to be at the turning I know is ahead.
What I do know is that I thirst. I thirst for the return of certainty. I thirst for the well-being of others. I thirst for knowing the way forward. And there are days I thirst for something for which I have no name.
And deep in my soul, I also know that this wilderness and this thirst are within God’s provenance. And that all my wandering and wondering can never truly take me beyond God’s loving-kindness.
