What if it is our affections that pull us more strongly to accomplish our dreams than the ascetic disciplines we often consider?
What if our senses are not the problem, leading us into temptation at every side, but are the catalysts for meeting the people in our lives?
The senses are doorways to community. They stir our memories of connections with others and open our hearts to those we see, hear, and touch each day.
I remember seeing Van Gogh’s irises at the Chicago Art Institute. The painting stopped people in their tracks.
They gazed and then touched or leaned into the person they were with. The beauty had to be shared. The painting seemed to make conscious a communion with beauty the seers already shared in one another.
What if we need to fall in love again with those closest to us, giving them time and ear to reengage? What if we make a point this Lent to do with family and friends what unfailingly brings us joy and recharges our batteries?
What if we need to fall in love again with Earth, its beauty, diversity, and unfailing burst each spring into new life? I always take heart from the flowers. One single snowdrop blooms first in our garden. Tulip spikes push up through snow on their mission to bring color back to the bleak winter landscape. Forsythia bushes beat them to it.
Bluebells bloom on our prairie boulevard before the crocuses and prairie smoke, a member of the rose family. Dutchman’s breeches and trout lilies appear in the garden.
Tulips and daffodils soon bloom in every color, wilt, and make room for the irises and lilies. The fruit trees froth into blossom in yards front and back. Our city blooms and hints the new life of Easter.
- With whom or what might you fall in love again this Lent?