It looks rather grey to everyone else, I’m sure.
A bit of wilderness, a bit too cold,
a bit too empty and austere,
waiting for spring to brighten it up.
I am not a hot weather girl by birthright and
those photos I see of white sand beaches and turquoise water
seem stifling – is there a cold wind there to steal your breath?
After all, I grew up in the prairies and the foothills,
the Rockies and now the Cascades.
By heart, I am a grey lake girl,
feeling alive when we are still waiting for the warmth.
There is something about being near a lake
with a rocky bottom surrounded by
silhouetted skeleton pine trees etched on a cold grey sky
let out the breath I’ve been holding.
It’s enough for me.
It’s Lent again.
The season of grey ashes,
From dust we were raised and to dust we return.
And this is enough.
[Ah. There’s that word again.]
This season of preparation, of waiting,
of community and prayer,
is just as much a part of my faith
as my mountain top songs
and my mystic languages
and my soft comforts
and my wilderness.
Lord, before the heat of the noonday comes,
we are already feeling as though
our lives are not full enough.
Instill in us
this morning the assurance that
you are enough for us, God.
Cold lake water,
the sound of the shore,
the sway and creak of the pier and
enough time left over to devote a bit of it
to contemplation and prayer,
work and loving,
mothering and living,
serving and seeking
is my place of waiting.
I’m participating in 40 Days of Community with my friend, Megan at Sorta Crunchy and her readers. We are praying through our days – morning, midday and evening – with Common Prayer as we pace through Lent towards Easter. You don’t have to buy the book because each days’ prayers are here.