Day 26: Longing

The past several days I've been overwhelmed with the feeling of a deep quiet longing. 

It took me a while to name it. Not quite sad.  Not quite anticipation. Not quite pregnant inspiration. Longing. 

The days are lengthening and the world is coming alive. But there is something disquieted deep within me.  

I've been searching for the source. I lingered after church to listen,  to be available for conversation. There was small talk after service but there were pauses that made me wonder -- there's something deeper to say but perhaps no words to say it with. 

I went for a walk with my husband. We talked about the world and life and our kids.  But in all the conversation,  I couldn't name the source. 

Sonja called.  She needed Jesus. I just bought her a new Bible.  It was purple,  her favorite color. I swing by to drop it off. She was stressed and had been drinking a little bit. She climbed into the van and vented. At first,  I was annoyed,  but I let myself just listen. She went on, but as I watched and listen with all the gentleness I could muster,  she softened. Eventually,  she was a little ok. She grabbed her Bible and jumped out of the van. 

Somehow that moment came closest to whatever the Longing I've been feeling. I pondered and still couldn't name it. 

Lent is a season of Longing. As we get closer to the cross, we will hear chants in the streets of Jerusalem.  A people longing for a king. Prayers in a garden.  A longing for a different path.  A groaning on the cross.  

Longing is a deeply human condition. We long in our sorrows for the return of joy. We long in our joy, to stop time and to bottle up the moment. 

I cannot even tell if the longing I carry now is one born of grief or of joy. Perhaps it is both.

But longing is holy. 

Blessed are those who mourn

Blessed are those who hunger for righteousness. 

Blessed are the poor in spirit. 

Blessed are the meek. 

Sacred is the longing. 

Sacred is the seeking to world to be as it should be,  as it one day will be. Sacred is the grief for what is not yet and sacred is the hope for what will one day be. 

God shows up in my longing, even when I don't know what my longing is for exactly.