This week I’m thinking about budding…

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“I wonder what it’s going to be like after all this.” This was a musing by one of my daughters and I have a feeling we are all thinking this. What IS it going to look like? When is it going to look like this.

There is a certain amount of comfort in staying insulated. Some of my parishioners have mentioned that they are starting to get used to the idea of going to church in PJs with their coffee. I have to admit that I have enjoyed the sabbatical from chauffeuring my children all over our county. 

And there is certainly a bit of fear and anxiety about what the future may look like. How are we going to keep our children well? Are they ever going back to school? What about all the things we love to do — like movies and theater and live music and travel? And, even when we are allowed, will we be so “used” to things the way they are now that we will be too afraid?

Then I came across this poem called “Risk” by Anais Nin.

And then the day came,

when the risk

to remain tight

in a bud

was more painful

than the risk

it took

to blossom.

My dear readers, there will come a time to blossom. A time when it will be necessary and right and fine to do so.

And in that time, God will be with us. Just as God is with us in our homes now and will be with us into our futures. Perhaps we can hold onto the words of Julian of Norwich when she prays: “Teach us to believe that by your grace all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.”


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