Pentecost +5 - Year C
A place of refuge is a blessing. Finally breathing can slow, hearts can return to rhythm, adrenaline return to normal. Our fight or flight trap can be unsprung.
Can we remember glad tiding?
Can we anticipate thanks renewed?
Longing, thirsting, crying are night time activities. In the dark, creativity stirs. And it is evening. Come the dawn and noonday a new creation is formed. And it is good. In the cool of the day we reflect. Thank goodness we came as far as we did. There is still so far to go. And we are ready to wrestle a new day from the confusion of many a mile to go by a path less traveled.
A place of refuge to save us from ourselves, where our demons can depart, our enemies be resisted. Yes, a place of refuge is precious, too precious to remain long for there is life to be lived. So notice, even in the midst of running, that altar, right there, that you couldn’t see a moment ago. Was it always there? Probably not. For this moment it is. Our place of refuge was with us before we got there. Why are you cast down, disquieted? Oh, right! Well, anyway, remember . . . anticipate, all manner of things shall be well.
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