Rachel Fitch
Sid & Cathy Batts Pastoral Resident
As we enter February, another month in this strange new normal-ish of COVID, we may feel as stuck in it as ever. The end, which seemed to be in sight, feels far off again.
As Jill named last week, in these past few years we’ve been through a lot. A lot has happened in our world, our congregation, and our personal lives. Each of us has different stories of this time, but each of us has been touched by it, changed by it.
We are to be gentle with ourselves and with one another. We are to know that we are loved.
And, as we enter this new month, not sure what it might hold, my hope is to strive to be more present.
I don’t know about you, but I can quickly get caught up in what needs to be done, seeing the list of where help could be needed, which people might enjoy a phone call, or what projects could be finished. It is easy to get caught up in lists, and, yet, we’re reminded to consider the lilies. We’re called to sit in God’s presence.
One of my neighbors during seminary was particularly good at this, at considering the lilies.
His roommates would sometimes get frustrated with the pace. But, you knew, that if you went with him on a walk or to an event, it would take a while. If an event started at 6:30, he would be there, between 6:42-6:45 every time. And, if you went on a walk, you would stop to watch the birds perched on the telephone wire, stop to look at the various flowers blooming, you would be far more attentive to the world around than to the time.
I was taught to walk more slowly. To simply enjoy.
I wonder if you’ve experienced something like this or someone like this, one who has a different relationship with time than our culture might lean toward. One who stops to listen, to watch as the colors of the sky change every morning and every evening. It’s a gift.
As days sometimes feel like they roll, one into another, time and resources feel in short supply. As we go into another month, as it feels, at times, like we have little control, my hope is to look to the sky more often. To look to the world around us, reminded that God is in control. To take a moment and take a deep breath, remembering that each breath is a gift from God. To walk a little bit more slowly, to pause a bit more often at the snowy window or when talking with a friend, to sit in awe a minute longer at the beauty of the colors of a sunset and to know that we are loved and known by God, who created all.
In the days and weeks to come, I pray that, in each day, you might be attentive to the Spirit, glimpsing God’s goodness and God’s love in a little way.
