Monday in the Third Week of Lent
Restore us, O God of hosts;
show us the light of your countenance,
and we shall be saved.
Psalm 80:3
The afternoon sunshine warms us as we walk a familiar path that at long last has emerged from the snow. Finally, I see some tender buds pushing up through the dirt, seeking the same warmth that lifts my soul. I know where to look for them, because I had watched their progress from bud to bloom this time last year.
This time last year. It is the refrain that marks my days now. This time last year we did not understand what was coming. This time last year I was filled with sorrow for all I thought I had lost or was going to lose. This time last year the face I lifted to the sun was marked by tears. Tear of grief, yes, but also tears of compassion and gratitude for the bravery and tenderness of the community that surrounded me.
And surrounds me still. This time. Last year. Next year. Now.
