The gift of new days
Re-reading Ann’s challenging questions from her June reflection made me stop and think! A month on from her piece, with the end of this strange period perhaps in sight, her questions about how we respond to this phase of the pandemic are still as pertinent and will be for some time to come. That’s because, despite the increasing relaxations, many of us are still in a period of waiting.
- for an injection,
- a Covid passport,
- to see family,
- to lay a loved-one to rest,
- to take a much-needed break,
- to see our business thrive,
- to find employment again…..
And perhaps we could add to this long list – waiting to feel a fresh touch of God’s presence and to feel renewed after everything we’ve been through.
Many mornings during the last 16 months, I’ve walked around the woods near my house with my beautiful Bernese mountain dog, JayDee. I’ve felt all the different weathers and seen the changing seasons, despite the sameness of life elsewhere, and there has often been a sense of newness to the day. And, in doing this, I’ve become more conscious of the gift of time – not in the glib sense of “time heals all things”, or “this will soon be over” – but the fact that time, as we experience it, is helpfully divided into days. That’s to say, each day, however difficult, has an ending which means that there is a chance of a new beginning the following morning. There is a certain grace to that, I think.
And space too to reflect!
This isn’t the place for a comprehensive reading of the book of Lamentations, and it is so easy to take “comforting verses” out of context. But, I am thinking of the passage where the poet acknowledges the difficulty of his current existence but yet remembers God’s past goodness. (I will leave aside the challenging questions of why his situation has arisen and the justice or not of that) 😊
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3: 22-23)
I know that some situations that are so difficult that each day just blends in to the next (and certain illnesses make it very hard to tell the benefit of one day ending and another beginning). But I hope, for at least some people reading this page, that it’s helpful to think about how life is graciously divided into days – each one a chance for a new experience of God’s touch – as you continue your version of waiting….