Day 37: Lent for my Wandering

“Life is a daring adventure or nothing at all.” –Helen Keller

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When I was young, I was too scared to wander off.

I stayed close to everyone, stayed close to every safe zone,

never took chances,

rarely asked questions.

When I met my husband, he was a mystery to me, because he was wide open.

He’d sought adventure, lived by the Spirit in ways I didn’t quite understand.

I could have married someone afraid like me, and we would have never wandered from the light, from the safe places.

But I needed someone who would wander with me, who would show me that God is found in secular college classes and on Sunday mornings outside the church building and in other voices besides the men who had taught me in Sunday School all those years.

I needed my German husband to show me that I am to embrace my Native American womanhood, find who I am and dwell there awhile.

The irony is that sometimes when we wander from the safe places, we actually end up closer to ourselves at the very root of who we are, where the Spirit began its work in the first place.

We are wandering in a few days of darkness here.

The tomb is still closed off and there is no sign of hope and we are maybe a little afraid.

But what are we learning in the wait?

What is stirring in our hopeless mourning?

What do we realize about Jesus as his body lays wrapped in cloth and covered in fragrant oil?

In these last days of Lent, may we look deeper in to find the imprint of God inside us.

May we listen to the voices of adventurous hope where we thought no hope could be found.

We wander to get back to the other side, to find the light.

Because now we know, tomorrow the tomb will be empty, and we will no longer wander alone.

Hallelujah and Amen. 

 

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