Today, we enter a new month! I wonder what you feel as March begins. Relief? Anticipation? Worry? The list can go on. I am entering this month with great hope. I can feel it in the core of my being. I don’t know exactly where this month will take us as a congregation (except that it WILL lead us to Easter, which is April 4), but I do know that I have hope.
I also find myself carrying various griefs and burdens. Some of them are quite literal. I have started physical therapy due to injuries that I’ve sustained by using the computer too much during this pandemic, and I know I’m not alone. I’m just being honest – I’d appreciate your prayers as I navigate returning to greater health!
I’m also carrying the grief of this pandemic – too many lives lost; too many misunderstandings; too much uncertainty; too many injustices. I want it all to end so that things can get “back to normal.” And yet, I know that’s not even possible. “Back to normal” isn’t a thing. It’s a hope, but it’s not a thing. We are all longing for something, and I pray that we are able to identify that for which we long… AND I hope that if we long for something, we work towards making it a reality for ourselves and others. That’s the key. We can’t just long for something; we’ve got to actually DO something to make what we long for become a reality.
Finally, I find myself carrying a smile today… a smile for the sandhill cranes that I heard and saw over the weekend, making their migration north. A smile for the glorious sun that is helping my spirit to soar. A smile for the joy of laughter that I experienced a number of times recently and a smile for the connectedness that I see happening around me. It’s good to smile… it changes not only others, but ourselves.
Here’s the thing: Jesus carried a ton of burdens. He also had hope. And he smiled. I’m positive of that. So, whatever you’re carrying, whatever is giving you hope, or whatever is making you smile, share it with another. That is what Jesus was REALLY good at: sharing with others – his thoughts, his gifts, his dreams, his presence. We can do that too, and we should. In bold and subtle ways. With and without recognition. Predictably and as a surprise.
