Transitioning: 8 March 2009

Dear Friends,

Just a few days ago my friend and I were strolling barefoot along the Atlantic beach in beautiful, sunny 80 degree weather. It all felt so surreal. With each winter journey to this southern part of the country, I continue to marvel at the vast difference in winter weather here as compared to my native Wisconsin. While away, snowstorm "Julia" left yet another blanketing of snow over northeast Wisconsin. But my friend assures me this has been a "cold" winter...by Florida standards.

Sitting once again in utter awe of the vastness of the ocean, I pondered all that just the sight of it had to teach me: the constant repetition of the waves rolling in, the abundant life hidden in its depths, the rhythmic movement of the ebb and flow of the tide, the shaping and reforming of the beach landscape (to name a few). The sight is absolutely mesmerizing! I couldn't help thinking how good it is to be here at this place and a bit of longing to hold on to being in this place crept in. Perhaps this feeling was akin to that of an excited Peter wanting to build those tents to capture and hold on to the magnificence of what he had just witnessed - what we have come to know as the Transfiguration on the mountain (Mark 9:2-5). But alas, Peter could not stay on the mountain or for that matter in that event, forever. Just as I must return home and tend to life and love there (as most all of us come to realize when away on vacation), so too Peter had much reason to go back down the mountain - so much to yet experience, learn, and live; so many ways to be shaped by the events to come.

Sometimes returning is not easy. It most always means a sense of leaving or leaving behind - a relaxed and peaceful time, a time of renewal of spirit, friends or relatives who will once again be separated from us by way too many miles. Returning can also mean we'll be immersed once again in the busyness or ordinariness or even messiness of our lives. But in the end, we do return - we must.

Lent calls us to return - to return to the Sacred One with all our hearts. It too beckons us to leave something of ourselves behind - not to deny what or who we are or even to give up some "treat" or "thing" in an attempt to "follow the rules". I believe living Lent to its fullness is an invitation to search our hearts - to take a survey of our way of living - and to discover again or anew what truly matters most. And in the process, we will most likely encounter parts of us that just might need to be changed, to be tweaked, to be left behind. This is not an easy or comfortable task nor is it a time to wallow in a "poor me" state of mind and heart. And yet, becoming fully aware of what it is in ourselves and our lives that may draw us to be less than our true self is part of not only Lent but sums up our whole life long spiritual journey. We are invited into a continual movement toward discovery and transition where along the way some most profound revelations really do come to light.

Even as I sat on the beach pondering and beholding the ocean, thoughts of an all too soon return home invaded consciousness. The memory of my time here and the journey into quiet, solitude, rest and peacefulness it provided will be forever embedded in my being. Yes, it is good to be here. But it's a "both/and". It is also good to be in transition - a movement toward going back to life at home with a renewed and refreshed heart and a clearer sense of what truly matters.

Peace on the Journey