We are a broken people.  We are a messy, crazy, lot.  Tired and weary and often forgetful.  Sick and a little slow on the uptake.  We make mistakes and stumble a lot.  We hurt.  But we keep going, always going, and usually its in the direction of love. And that is what brings me great joy and enables me to laugh, even on days where death dances on the doorstep and grief stops in for a visit and the journey feels a bit harder than usual.

Its nice to know that every year there is a time, to recognize these things–at the start of spring, at the start of a new year.  That there is a time to take stock, to let go, to start anew.   To hold our brokenness and recognize it.  To whisper our regret and let it go where it cannot torment us anymore.

Tomorrow I am joining my Jewish friends in fasting.  I am sitting in meditation and prayer.  I will cook for the break fast at Stephen’s.  I will cut apples for hundreds and I will do what is needed here in the house because it needs to be done.  I will be still and quiet and hold my broke down, weary self close and let her rest without judgment.  I will nurse the new self that is emerging, that is startled and overwhelmed at the big wide world and whisper shushing noises and let her be still.  I will sit.  I will be.

I am not sure if that is the kind of thing that will get my name written in the Book of Life…what do I know about Jewish theology really…but I like the idea that it might.  I like the idea that it just might.

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