Lent 35 ~ Beyond the Tomorrows

Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.

~ Sarah Ban Breathnach, author

          A Friday is always lovely because it marks the end of the work week for me – except when I get called in for additional work on Saturdays, and I have to go in, heart all filled with little thorns. But none of that this week. The car windscreen has not been repaired yet because my husband only got home on Wednesday after his outstation meeting. We’re booked to have it all seen to next Tuesday of Holy Week. In the meantime, my husband has to pick me up after work each day, and that has been so nice, both the picking up and the extra time we get to spend together.

          Today, being Friday, I prayed once more for all of our family to be sheltered within the 5th Wound of Jesus, and for His Precious Blood to cleanse us, for God knows just how much we need this. In my mind, I was expecting cleansing to be signified through a sense of remorse, a sorrow for my sins the way I’ve read that saints often feel.

          Instead, like many days this Lent, it has been such a gentle day. At work, the mindless chatter has reduced by about 80% due to the repositioning of our workstations. I sit in a quieter segment of the room now, and the peace is deep and abiding. Thanksgiving spills over for this miracle, something so small in terms of change, but which has yielded so much. I then came home from work, my mind turning over ideas for the writing for my studies. There was so much more of my studies to get done, but the house put out its arms and welcomed us all home. This beautiful old home that has seen births and a death, joys and sorrow, it welcomed me like a mother, and within it I found again, peace and rest and quiet merriment.

Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.

          On a day when I’ve decided to pray big for my country, to pray recklessly even, without caring for the disappointment that may come when prayers are answered differently, Sarah Ban Breathnach’s words bring a quiet sort of hope. Not giddy. Not exuberant. But a gentle yet strong certainty that even if tough days come, something beautiful does lie in wait beyond the mountains of tomorrows. Hidden for now, bidding its time.

The dry seasons in life do not last,

The spring rains will come again,

Expect to have hope rekindled,

Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways.