Friday in the Second Week of Lent
When my mind became embittered,
I was sorely wounded in my heart.
Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by my right hand.
Psalm 73:21, 23
There is a certain way the air feels before it snows. Damp, weighty, still. The sky, impenetrable luminescent gray rather than dark, seems a bulging sheet holding back the precipitation until it is time. Air and sky holding their breath. Waiting.
When the snow comes it will be beautiful, a sweet release of pent-up energy and hoarded moisture.
I am mindful that I too am waiting. I have begun my yearly ritual of honing in and rooting out and letting go. Yet each day brings its hesitation. Maybe I will not continue. Maybe I will willfully try to hold fast to an indeterminate status quo.
What have I hoarded in my heart that God can make beautiful once I release it?
