day 5: Lent for my Breath

 Sometimes when the boys play in their room, I sit on the bed while they build blocks or pretend to cook, and I read chapter books out loud.

Right now, it’s Little House on the Prairie, and next I’ll move on to The Chronicles of Narnia.

And while they play, adventure speaks in the background, a constant soundtrack to their imaginations as they engage their world here in our little apartment.

And it makes me think of Ruysbroeck, who said:

For the heavenly Father desires that we should see, and that is why He is ever saying to our inmost spirit one deep, unfathomable word and nothing else.

Just as my voice is the background to their play, the adventures of Ma and Pa and their little girls speak into their everyday breathing, their everyday playing, their everyday child-likeness.

And Lent is one of those seasons that lingers with us, much like Advent; it speaks to us past Easter, it breathes on us and teaches us something, even when we’re not paying attention.

Lent becomes a part of our breathing, a part of our working, a part of our playing, a part of our hoping and even our despair.

The truth of this season speaks into and over and around us, a soundtrack to our lives, a way to steady our breathing and give us rest.

May we learn to live along to the pulse of Lent.

May these next thirty-five days bring us closer to knowing ourselves and knowing each other, closer to the vision of humanity created for us in the beginning.

Amen.