Several years ago I used to travel regularly to Northern Ireland for business; when it worked logistically I always preferred to cross by ferry as I like the sea but I dislike the airport experience. I will never forget using the Stranraer to Belfast route on an occasion when it was touch and go as to whether we would sail. We did, although crossing was a bit like going up and down stairs. I looked up from what I was doing at one point on the voyage and realised that I was about the only person not looking green or lying down with eyes closed. Why I rarely feel seasick is a mystery and a blessing. I was quite proud of my lonely verticality whilst my fellow passengers suffered, though I did feel a twinge of sympathy for them – it was bumpy.
This autumn I planted some extra bulbs in a sunny border under the sitting room window. One variety of daffodils claimed to be very early flowering, which I only partly believed. Imagine my delight when, long before January was over, a lone flower popped up its head whilst everything else reminded out of view in the wintry weather. Now it has been joined by two others, a reminder that ‘if winter come, can spring be far behind’.
And now it is Lent again. We prepare for the stormy waters of Holy Week and then the bursting into flower of Easter by reflecting on what we really believe and questioning the depth of our commitment to our Lord. Do we go green and have to lie down when life gets a bit rough, or does the mystery of faith work such that we know the blessing of inner calm and the courage to keep on living, knowing that God will not let sink but help us stay on our feet?
It is not easy.
A prayer
Lord Jesus, this Lent give me the patience to look into all the corners of my life for the things that may destabilise me. Give me the grace to turn them over to you for help and, enabled by your Spirit, may I reconcile all that alarms me, threatens me or unnerves me in my walk with you. Amen.