Wilderness Blessings in Lent

  • March 9, 2020

Beloved Is Where We Begin

If you would enter into the wilderness,

do not begin without a blessing.

Do not leave without hearing who you are:

Beloved,

named by the One

who has traveled this path before you.

Do not go without letting it echo in your ears,

and if you find it is hard to let it into your heart,

do not despair.

That is what this journey is for.

I cannot promise this blessing will free you

from danger,

from fear,

from hunger

or thirst,

from the scorching of sun

or the fall of the night.

But I can tell you that on this path

there will be help.

I can tell you that on this way

there will be rest.

I can tell you that you will know

the strange graces that come to our aid

only on a road such as this,

that fly to meet us

bearing comfort and strength,

that come alongside us

for no other cause than to lean themselves toward our ear

and with their curious insistence, whisper our name:

Beloved.

Beloved.

Beloved.

 —Jan Richardson

from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons

March 14, 1860, “Walden Ice Melted,”  from the journal of Henry David Thoreau

“As I stand there, I see some dark ripples already drop and sweep over the surface of the pond, as they will ere long over Ripple Lake and other pools in the wood.  No sooner has the ice of Walden melted than the wind begins to play in dark ripples over the surface of the virgin water.  It is affecting to see nature so tender, however old, and wearing none of the wrinkles of age.  Ice dissolved is the next moment as perfect water as if it had been melted a million years.  To see that which was lately so hard and immovable now so soft and impressible!  What if our moods could dissolve thus completely?  It seems as if it must rejoice in its own newly acquired fluidity, as it affects the beholder with joy.”

Prayer:

God of the March winds, blow over us and play in ripples over what is beginning to melt inside of us.  Dissolve what has been glacial, and sweep tenderness into our frozen hopes, softness into our brittle moods, fluidity into our spirits, joy into our hearts.  We have lived for so long with this winter in our souls.  Promise what is essential has not gotten lost; gone underneath the surface, perhaps, but still strong currents, rushing rivers, living waters deep and running, waiting for spring.  Amen.

  • Rev. Andrea Castner Wyatt, at the time (2002), Assoc. Pastor, First Congregational Church, UCC, Holliston, MA