We are out walking in the predawn cold. The setting moon and the porch light up on the hill shed just enough light to create texture in the dark. We aren’t exactly walking, more like browsing; Henry is examining every scent left since midnight. I sigh and wish I could warm up my feet as I wait for him again and again. Then, across the road — one shadow, then another. Two fox shadows trot across the slope. Suddenly I’m awake, alert, but Henry is oblivious, carefully smelling twigs and blades of grass up one side and down the other. One fox follows the other across the road, and back again, through light into shadow, and then is gone. I scan the darkness for movement. Then, like a tumbling wave, I see one then the other materialize on the stone wall, just at the edge of the light, they are running along, then they disappear again, shadow lost in shadow. A whisper of breeze carries their scent down the hill, and a growl and a ripping hound-dog howl tears open the moment. Henry is awake: all bluster and urgency, he pulls me up the hill, but the foxes are gone.

 In February, on the edge of light but not yet there, we practice various ways of tasting the days and nights. Black History Month helps us wake up to our diverse human experience, Valentines Day helps us wake up to the joy of friendship and love. In Christian churches, the Lenten season helps wake us up to our connection with one another and with God. For forty days, we take on some practice to deepen our spiritual lives and to grow in curiosity and wonder. Some people practice giving up some material pleasure; others practice taking up a new behavior, like daily gratitude, or daily singing. Lent is not so much the gloom and doom that we might have experienced as kids. It’s a season when we practice seeing shadows and light, when we examine what it means to taste grief and hope, and to live most fully when we love and serve others. 

Perhaps you’ll consider taking on a Lenten challenge this year, starting on Feb. 14. You’ll find me offering “Blessings to Go” that day at 7 am outside in front of the church, and at 7 pm inside the candlelit church. Stop by, say hello, and share your Lenten intentions. You are already blessed, but if you like, I’ll bless you with ashes or oil, or simply with words. 

In Peace,

Becky