Transitioning: 7 March 2010

On Monday, the first day of March, as I was eating lunch and glancing out the window, there he sat. I was sure of it but got up and slowly moved to the window to take a closer look. Sure enough, it was indeed an Eastern bluebird perched on the deck rail. Perhaps they do arrive this early but as long as I've enjoyed watching for the return of migrating birds I've not ever spotted one in our yard before April. As soon as I got to the window, he flew away. Lo and behold, two days later upon arising to the familiar and long-awaited sweet sound of birds chirping near the window, my eyes and spirit were delighted to see three pairs of Eastern bluebirds fluttering around the yard and checking out each of the three now vacant bird houses. Later in the day one pair had claimed the little white one in the tree, flying in and out of it or landing on its perch. They've been back to visit daily. Given the "dryness", "barrenness" of winter I've been writing about, seeing these beautiful birds again turned my thoughts to the onset of spring and the re-emergence of nature's activity, growth and beauty. And I officially declared, to myself, that spring had indeed arrived. Oh yes we know all too well that winter's furry can come again before (and after) the calendar declares it to be spring but...catching these glimpses of springtime life reminds me that dry, desert time - winter's rest - will indeed transition into new growth and life. So too our inner desert times can transform us when we look for the and find the Sacred - even in the most unexpected places.

The story of the woman at the well (John 4:5-42) find Jesus in conversation with a Samaritan woman - a woman who comes to the well in the intense heat of noontime to draw water for the day when no one else from her village is there; when she will not encounter the harsh judgment of others because of her "lifestyle". The gospel tells us the "Jews use nothing in common with Samaritans" (4:9). In fact, the Jews of the time strived to avoid the Samaritans all together and Samaritan women were considered by the Jews as ritually impure. Imagine how isolated the woman must have felt in her everyday life.

This week I pose these questions to ponder:
Has there been a time in life when we have been the woman at the well? Have we ever felt isolated from friends, family, community because of how we live, what we believe, who we associate with? Are there times we have experienced intense thirst for the life-giving water of community, compassion and understanding? And...have we been/are we now open to the signs of the Sacred dwelling in and all around us waiting to comfort, guide, and delightfully surprise us with Divine Love?

Just as winter turns into spring, may our spirits transition toward finding anew the presence of the Sacred One - even in the most unexpected places - in our lives, in others and in our world.

Peace on the Journey.