God of the sticks, the dry grounds, the damp tears, and the gritty ashes: Oh how we yearn for the spring to arrive. The days of the sweet mild breezes carrying the scents of your creation. The boldness of the sunrise which will awaken our souls Instead of the chilly winds swirling below the thick cloud cover.
But for now, God, we sit under the tree full of twigs and surrounded by ashes. We sit with the grief that comes from unbearable losses. We settle knowing that today may not go well, that tomorrow is not guaranteed- Yet hope still illuminates the sky in the distance.
So we live with that hope: The hope that the phoenix will rise from the ashes And Christ will rise from the tomb. We live with the hope that the twigs on the trees Will bear leaves when the time is right. We know that after the longest nights of our lives That the sun will rise again, And that you, Holy Comforter, Will follow us to the depths of Sheol if we flee.
Even when hardships encroach our space And afflictions invade our bodies, The hope found in the realm of God- The dirt-filled, ash smeared Tear-damp realm of God Is still hope. This is the hope that drives away despair, That warms our hearts, That give us moments of cheer. And in that we offer God our praise.
As we continue in the wilderness journey of Lent
Our hearts are open as we listen for your call.
This is the time when we focus on where you intend for us to go.
This is the season for us to listen… and listen more.
Whether we have come across a fork in the road
Or we have a large stone blocking our next steps
This is the time we look to you, God.
We are called to serve you… but how?
Where are you calling us?
What gifts will we use?
We continue to be open and wish we could hear you more clearly.
So we will trust that your voice will come through when it’s time for us to move.
We believe that all will come together.
We step in faith even when fog covers our passage
And we know you are with us in every step. Amen.
Michelle L. Torigian 