From Rector's Ramblings, March 14. 2014

 This morning has dawned mild and lovely--such a welcome break from the roller coaster of weather in past weeks. My back door is propped open letting in a cool, clean breeze, and the warm sun streams through the kitchen window. The raggedy line of snow and ice crystals almost visibly recedes on the patio, and I can begin to imagine sitting out there in the spring or summer warmth. The hummingbird feeder will be filled, the hills will turn green and produce a variety of floral treasures, and the top will come down on my car! And even if we know that this will not stay this way for a while, it is to be embraced and enjoyed for now.

I love to watch the water in different seasons. The Galena River is not so exciting, I think, when totally frozen over and piled high with snow. But in different freeze and thaw cycles it is fun to see the changing patterns of water and ice floes. This brings to mind another late winter, a few years ago when the temperature finally climbed above 40 degrees for the first time.

I had a foster dog at the time, so she was thrilled to get out for fresh air. We went to the lakefront on the far north side of Chicago. There was a long pier from where we could see all the way south to the Loop skyline and north to the Northwestern University landfill. Nearer the shore, the cycles of melting and freezing created a crystalline quilt of circles. I was reminded that the water flowing beneath those few inches of ice would soon be as free as the icy-blue water lapping gently against the pilings of the pier. Everything was beautiful and peaceful, and the air on our faces felt positively balmy.

It made me think of the winters of our lives when our souls and hearts feel frozen. And how those bleak seasons do not last forever-the warmth returns, the ice melts away, and life is restored.   The season of Lent can feel like winter, too, with its penitential mood and our call to reflect as we remember the last days of Jesus' ministry leading up to his death. But we know that just as there is water waiting to emerge from beneath the layer of ice, our hope will spring forth on Easter morning.

I hope you are finding among our Lenten offerings something to stir your soul and touch your spirit. To warm you and to help thaw out any frozen spots.

Of course, I have found here in Galena a hardy bunch of people. We have not been hibernating in this long, difficult winter. We have been braving those icy roads and hills right along. And your church has been busy and hard a work. Some of the things we are doing may not be immediately evident- they are more about the beginnings of discovery like new possibilities for our outreach to the community or the diocesan Thrive! initiative. Or they may be "back stage" things that are only missed when something goes awry, like working toward consistent and clear procedures and practices in how we conduct our day-to-day life. But they are seeds planted they take time to emerge. Like bulbs beneath the frozen ground, they are very much alive and vibrant, waiting to show forth at the right time. Nothing is secret or hidden. But some of it is hard to share when its shape has not yet come clear.

Yesterday, we made the monthly 12-hour trek to Chicago for the diocesan Fresh Start program. The drive is somewhat of an ordeal. And yet, we go because there is so much value to being there. We meet with other newish priests and diocesan staff. We talk, we worship, we learn. There are always new thoughts and ideas from the day's theme but also from what others bring from their parishes. We don't always return with a "report" that needs to be shared.  It may be a tiny idea that we can use to tweak something we are already doing.  It may be a new resource.  Or again, some new seeds that may, when mixed with other thoughts and prayers, bring growth in ourselves or in our community of faith. Maybe you have some of these seeds, too. Maybe you would like to share yours?