A winter storm is coming. The schools are closed in anticipation of snow and sleet. Our daughter has called to tell us it is already snowing at her house. The boys are so excited about the big fluffy flakes falling... and the special waffle breakfast that comes with snow days. The normal routine is set aside and there is a feeling of anticipation in the air. Whatever had to be done today, will wait. Snow days... a small window in time... room and time to play, rest, set a spell without feeling the pressure to do something... be somewhere.
We will put on a pot of soup... call our neighbors and invite them over... check the cows to make sure they have bedding in the barn and enough to eat... feed the ducks on the pond an extra ration of corn... turn the heat on in the basement for the dogs... fill the bird feeders... and check the oil lanterns to make sure they are ready if we need them. I’ll draw some water in the bathtub in case the power goes out and the pump won’t run for water. The wood box is full for the fireplace and we are ready.
Waiting... expecting... hoping... preparing... letting go of the usual... not just for winter storms but also for this Epiphany season. The Light that came to us in Christmas is slowly dimming... setting like the sun behind a distant mountain outline. We see a transformation underway... a new Light coming... the Light of Lent.
Epiphany light is represented by the Star... bright night light that guides and gives hope and direction. It can lead us to the home of the One who came to live among us as God’s Son... help us find a pathway to the Holy... the One who waits for us in this life and the next. This light is comforting, kind, trustworthy and bright. We have only to look up and see where we should go... follow the star... to find God... a clear path brightly lit to our soul’s home.
Lenten light is different. It is like snow light... the light grey brightness that contains promise and requires preparation. When Lent snowlight comes, one must listen carefully and look closely to see the path to Easter. There is no bright star... no full moon... no streetlights to mark the way through Lent. Our souls find the path dim, murky with our own darkness, shadowed by the pain and grief of our world that reminds us of Jesus’ pain and grief to come. This light is cold, sometimes harsh, flickering with bright splashes and dark patches... no rest for the soul here.
I used to hate Lent. It reminded me of John Bunyan’s Pilgrims Progress and Dante’s Inferno... prickly, uncomfortable, relentless, no fun at all... holding my spiritual feet to the fire and requiring sacrifice of me... what can I give up that won’t be too difficult? Now Lent is my favorite liturgical season of the year. When taken seriously, carefully tended like a garden, Lent can yield wonderful fruit for the soul. It is a time for honesty... time out from celebration and hoohah... time for preparation... time for setting a spell and seeing what is coming up... what is growing in your soul... time to do a little weeding if necessary. The Lenten Light can provide enough illumination for your soulwork... dim light that keeps one from growing too quickly... time to put down roots for the rest of the year. Like the Psalmist, I will rest in the Lord this Lent and wait patiently for the Light to show me the way.
Thank you God for all the light that shines in my life... the light of Epiphany and Lent, the light of Easter and Christmas, the light of Pentecost and Ordinary Time. Each Light leads me closer to you. Give me eyes to see... a heart that understands and a soul that does not fear the dark. I love you... because you first loved me. Peggy
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment