Lent arrives almost without announcement. It seems to just be here without warning, even though I have known it was coming. There are many practical reasons why I pay attention to Lent… my work at a parish, my ministries at St. Edward’s are two. And then there is just my own rhythm of faith.
Yet – like so many things, suddenly, it is just here.
This year I am reminded of this vision… I am walking in a lush garden, filled with delight and as I round a bend, suddenly I am in the desert. The desert – seemingly barren, lifeless, looming and silent.
In the garden, I can hide in plain sight – obscured by overgrowth, color and sound. Out here, I am vulnerable with no place to make myself absent, no shelter, no shade.
I was just in a conversation with someone who said that they couldn’t quite get their head around Lent yet and I replied, too rapidly as I often do. My words said this, there is nothing to get your head around, just breath and walk into the desert.
Who am I kidding? How does one do this?
Here are the readings for today, that should help. In the meantime, my spirit is going to want a big floppy hat, sunscreen and some dark glasses. I don’t think I will be able to find anything like that out there… and that is probably a good thing.
"my spirit is going to want a big floppy hat, sunscreen and some dark glasses."That is priceless. Into the desert!
I'm breathing and walking…. Thanks for the inspiration, Frannie!
I like your image of garden and desert. Thank you, Fran.I wish you a glorious Lent :-)Blessings.
Here it is again, is right. I feel the same way about Lent.A (I don't think good is quite the word I am looking for here) enlightening Lent Season to you, Fran.
It is good to journey together, though apart, in the desert of our beings.
Happy Lent, Fran. (If you need sunscreen, a floppy hat and dark glasses, I can't even begin to imagine what I need. Perhaps a biohazard suit that reflects UVA and UVB rays?) Still, I am looking forward to seeing what this exposure does to my spirit.
Fran, your incisive comments about feeling exposed and vulnerable in the wilderness touched off remembrance of an old hymn:Father, I lift my hand to TheeNo other help I knowIf Thou withdraw Thy help from meO whither shall I go?I now have an anthem to lift me on this journey. Thank you for being the instrument to bring this back to me!