Fifth Sunday of Lent 2014
Winter is finally relenting through the streets and gardens where I live. Garbage items lost months earlier than now are beginning to be released by the thaw and brown grass and dead stalks remain like thin bones. Gulls circle in hungry straggling flocks and broken ice pushes up on the shore.
Winter is finally relenting in my own life as well, only to reveal ragged sorrows caught like stray plastic in the barren tree tops and empty hollows where dreams and aspirations used to gather in seasons previous.
It seems almost more difficult now that winter is leaving than when it held full and final say over the whole landscape. It is more difficult to expect vitality and beauty to ever again hold commerce here. Like Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones, the landscape moans in desolation. There is a wind warning today for the “wreckhouse” area, a stretch of highway many mile west of where I live and these winds are expected to blow over my garden tonight tormenting frozen hopes.
If I can wait like the earth, will Spring elicit green shoots, plump buds and sweet new water to trickle through my soul too? Will the wind of God blow new life unimaginable into my unfolding days sweetening the arteries of hope now narrow and dry? Will God reknit my members and ignite my joy?
Do you remember the book that heralded the ecological awareness of many some years ago now, called “Silent Spring”? The author alerted us to the decline in songbird populations due to the growing and devastating use of herbicides and pesticides in food production practices continent-wide.
What has shifted the ecological balance of my soul? What is prophetic about my own Silent Spring? What will the silence teach me to voice aloud?
Can you wait naked like the earth, for God to move in your life even if the waiting is long?
Can you imagine that the love of God will come ravishing you like the magnificence of color soon to push through the sorry earth?
Can you imagine that the love of God will come ravishing you like an eager bridegroom longing to unite hope to fulfillment?
How will you wait for this bridegroom of breath and life to come? With your praise?
– Susan Cummings, Presentation Associate