Gal 4:19 - “My dear children, for whom I am again in the pains of childbirth until Christ is formed in you…”

If there is a gift in this time of pandemic, it is a renewed awareness of time - a recalibrating of our communal pace. Recent societal evolution has resulted in soul-ravaging cultural norms intolerant of anything less than instantaneous. My granddaughter followed me toward town recently, then passed me with a wave. I was later chided with a wink for taking a few seconds too long to reach highway speed. We live in a hurry.

I love Holy Saturday. What am I writing about? Holy Saturday? Holy Saturday is the day between Good Friday and Eastern morning, and I love that day. Why in the world am I thinking about Passion Week when it is already the month of September? Let me tell you.

I was recently camping on Whidbey Island in a place that sits on a high bluff overlooking Admiralty Inlet where the Pacific Ocean comes in to form our beautiful Puget Sound. Sitting on a bench, looking out over this magnificent vista one morning, I began to be aware of all of the sounds around me that I had not been paying attention to. One by one they began to break in on my own awareness as I set my ears to intentional listening.

Psalm 61:1-3: “Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I; for you are my refuge, a strong tower against the enemy.” Jesus basically calls us to do what we don’t want to do, which is to empty ourselves of our perspective and take on God’s.

In this season of slowness, of uncertainty, pain, and anxiety, God has been pressing on my heart how something so simple as breathing – something most of us don’t even have to think about – is so essential to life.

Your time starts…NOW!

Each timed elimination round of our favorite cooking show, Chopped, begins with that familiar cue. Four chefs compete for a $10K prize by outperforming their peers in the creation of an appetizer, an entrée and a dessert. The catch? No one knows what ingredients they will be using from the mystery basket placed before them. The clock starts and mayhem ensues. I confess to having invested too many evenings learning more than I need to know about strange food. But if you ever need to prepare rattlesnake meat, feel free to call!

The morning light begins to illumine the Eastern sky. I can hear the waves of the Strait of Juan de Fuca pounding upon Dungenness Spit and then off in the distance is the haunting call of an eagle. This morning there is only a slit through the gray clouds allowing the yellow and golden colors of the morning sun to shine forth. Other mornings the sky is alive with color, with beauty, with grandeur. Off in the distance is the baritone voice of a seal and the squawking of seagulls playing in the wind.