Ash Wednesday found me at an evening service to receive Communion and ashes on my forehead. Our service was bilingual, the priests and lectors alternating readings in English and Spanish. Some people find this distracting, but to me it feels like opening a window and letting in the reality of my neighbors. We had the words in both languages printed out to follow along. I don’t know enough Spanish to claim that I speak it, but seeing the words on paper helps.
This was especially true for me last night, because my ears are giving me more problems than usual this week, and even with my pocketalker I was having a difficult time discerning words in English or Spanish. This was especially true during the sermons, one in Spanish and one in English, because there was of course nothing to read along. I could hear their voices speaking, but in both cases my ears refused to deliver discernible words.
I am glad I attended, even though I am sorry to have missed the thoughts shared by our two exceptional priests during their sermons.
I finished off the evening by backing into the car of one of my friends in the parking lot. How embarrassing! Fortunately, I don’t think I dented her bumper, just scrapteed the paint. The parking lot was dark and my night vision is terrible, but this is the first time I have hit someone’s car. I actually had a note on my car a few weeks ago that someone had backed into mine. Anyway, something of a humbling experience. When I am finished writing here, I need to try to find Jackie’s phone number or email as I forgot to give her my driver’s license number with my other information, and I forgot to get any of hers so I can report properly to my insurance.
Well, that’s a tangent, but here I am in my life, and things tend to happen that way.
To give myself a sense of the season, I have decided to re-read Landscapes of the Soul (a spirituality of place)
by Robert M. Hamma.
I expect a completely fresh reading as I feel like a different person than the one who last picked up this book. I intend to share my journey through the reading here. Maybe for Lent, I can stick to my intention,
This morning I just read the short Introduction, and the words that speak to me this morning: “There is a hiddenness [sic] of God in the common place that does not easily yield itself to us.”
I find myself at this point in time very much trying to discern the presence of God. I have an ever-growing sense of life as I know it winding down. I want to understand in my heart what this means, and what I might do with it going forward.