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As much as I hate busy, I’m living in it right now. I feel like we swing from one event to the next, from one happening to yet another appointment. I admit it drives me crazy, but I also admit that I can’t seem to figure out how to hit the pause button and slow this freight train down. I have been more appreciative of Lent than ever before because of this; there’s been no choice but to stop and breathe deeply each night as the candles are lit and the electric lights put out. I needed this calm, this reflection, this space.
I also need spring. This winter has been wet and dark, filling our fields with flood waters and our house with restless people pressing their noses to the windows and wondering if the sun will ever come out again. It’s almost comical. Twelve years in Western Washington, marinating in a rain shadow and loving it, and now we groan at every cloudy morning? What happened here, exactly?
Floating Axe Farm happened, I suppose. The days are getting longer, and the air is warming. The first sunny day in a week exploded over us yesterday and we literally ran outside to soak in it. I had to make a run for chicken feed and the display of Seeds of Change lettuce seeds drew me in like sirens. I’ve already staked out this afternoon to ready and plant the raised salad beds, and am hoping our Grow Tunnels work their magic. I am dying to see something green popping through the dirt, and soon.
I know I feel this way every February— impatient for the season to turn, and for the grip of winter to loosen. During last night’s Lenten time, we researched the etymology of the word Lent, and the fact that it came from a word that meant Spring didn’t remind me of the controversy of hijacked holidays and co-opted festivals, but instead of the awakening we have in our hearts when we discover Christ, His sacrifice, and our freedom from the weight of our own sin. Our soul’s own spring, perfectly timed to the awakening of the earth. Lent, indeed.
I’m conscious, this season, of the layers I’ve been hiding under since the advent of the cold weather. Not just the fluff of extra pounds (though trust me, that’s there, too), but the hibernating of our family’s hospitality, the excuse of “so much to do” that’s pressed the pause button on the things I’ve felt called to do in my daily walk. As I’m thinking ahead to long days spent in the sun, bare arms, and toes in the grass, I’m reminded to shake off the sin of things left undone. For the majority of people, January 1 seems to be the time of resolutions. For me, it’s Easter.
Over the next few weeks, we’ll keep journeying closer to the key celebration of the Christian calendar, the day that set us free. I’m enjoying the peace, the comfort, and the respite of the path this year even more than most, and looking forward to the unveiling of both the Son and the Sun.