I’m having some difficulty wrapping anything in words…
There have been many moments over the last week when I have felt I had something to share with you all here, but when I reached for words in which to wrap it, I came up empty. Some things are best left in silence, some things are ineffable.
Here, in the recollection of Lent, I am wrapped in a kind of inner silence, almost an emptiness. But it is an emptiness that is not empty.
This is where we are called to be, isn’t it? This is the radical poverty of the blessed, in which we are aware of our utter emptiness, but we are given what we need when we need it. Not before; we’d then have to carry it around with us. No, grace is given for the moment. For this moment.
“Give us this day our daily bread.” Give us TODAY enough for TODAY. Give me this moment enough for this moment. No more.
We need not hold on to anything but Him for security – our security is in the knowledge that we are loved, and awaited.
We are awaited by Love, and our arrival is prepared for by Him. He has gone to prepare a place for us.
Maybe someday. I’m gun-shy on leaping. Did that one of the times my father was sprung from county jail. I ran down the sidewalk to him, leaped when he was expecting a middle-hug–and nearly knocked him out. 