Living water

Thursday in the Fifth Week of Lent

But I still my soul and make it quiet,

like a child upon its mother’s breast;

my soul is quieted within me.

Psalm 131:3

Although the rain is accompanied by damp and cold that I wish we were past, it’s gentle patter on the leaves outside my window is a welcome sound. Calm. Tender. Soothing.

I need this, as my day is full of finances, proofreading, worship and organizational decisions. All important. All tasks which nurture this community of faith and enable us to care for and tend to others.

Also important is placing myself in the midst of this rain, life-giving water which even now reaches into the depths of the earth cracking open the hard shells of seeds that have been buried deep in the earth over the cold winter. I am also the recipient of living water. And as I turn my face to the holiness that is to come, it is with the understanding that I, too, will be cracked open, and what has been buried in cold and darkness will be called forth.

The Lenten road---the wilderness way, the struggle through the desert-- inevitably pours itself out onto the thirsty ground at the foot of the cross. Where true life is found.

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