Think of a seed. A tiny, trembling, tentative thing. It yawns into life, and stretches. Unseen wings begin to unfurl, and they are never noticed again until the day they die. The seed yearns to go up. Up is its nature. Up is its calling. Up is its very soul.
At first, the task of rising is painful and could break a heart. It is dirty work. It is moving in muck so thick, it makes every step perilous. The seed slogs on. The seed does not complain, but the sighs of the seed are deep and full, and express agony and ecstasy in equal measure.
The laboring of the seed continues for days and nights. Weeks go by. The seed gets weary, and the worrying begins. The seed is haunted by questions and doubts, and longs to go back to the “slavery” from whence it came. At least there and then the seed knew exactly what it was doing, even if it hadn’t a clue as to why.
Exhaustion coats the seed with grimy sweat. The seed is ripe for collapse. The seed is wallowing in despair so thick, it could suffocate. Then, out of nowhere, a second wind kicks in. The seed is bloated with determination. The soul of the seed makes a fist and punches its way through the crusted surface of the ground.
The seed suddenly turns neon lime green. Above, everything is blue, and the seed inhales sweet Life and fills it lungs with the love of it all. The seed is sure now. There will be a bud. There will be a pinking of readiness. The blossom will burst. The smell of it will be exquisite, and the seed has faith this perfume expresses its divinity.
This is the journey of Lent. We came all this way to know once again, we are blessed and beloved beyond measure. Every moment of every day embraces us with so much mercy and magnificence, it takes our breath away. But…then we breathe again, and we look, we look up and out and beyond, and we give voice to our vision, as we say, “Amen”.
Our stunned silence follows, and shouts with a quivering gratitude. We are quite certain that we, like the seed, will soon be swallowing the sun whole.
O, Lord of Lent, we jump for joy as we come to the final days of this sacred journey called Lent. We are up on higher ground, and we can see beyond the worries and fears of the world, and we believe fully we will blossom soon, and our flowering will be a dazzling discipleship, as spectacular as the arrival of a single Spring flower. Amen.
Reverend William R. Grimbol has spent the past 30+ years helping people create and develop strong spiritual connections with loved ones and God. He is also a published author, with over a dozen books to his credit.