Fifth Sunday in Lent
A powerful passage from Isaiah 43 in today's lectionary. It can speak in so many ways:

16 This is what the LORD says—
he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters,

17 who drew out the chariots and horses, the army and reinforcements together,
and they lay there, never to rise again, extinguished, snuffed out like a wick:

18 "Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.

19 See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.

It is so easy to get stuck in the past. Whether good, bad, or indifferent, the past is still... past. It will not come again. It is a reminder of our own mortality.

I had my very first what I call "mortality moments" back at the end of 6th grade. We had planned and worked all year to take the annual 6th grade trip to the circus in Harrisburg. A long trip in a school bus in the days before interstate highways. A full day having a great time. I had never been on a school bus before and the excitement of everything we were doing was just super. What a remarkable day.

But I woke up the next morning wanting to cry. It was such a great time. I wanted to go back and do it again. I remember saying to myself something to the effect that I will never be able to do that again. It was a difficult day. Every time I thought about the day before I would get this sinking feeling that made me want to cry. I didn't understand it as a mortality moment at the time. But it was. It was grief over not being able to ever again have that experience.

We have had our first few real spring days yesterday and today. We even had some tornado warnings in the area this afternoon as well as a tornado watch. It it the new thing we call spring coming forth from the winter. See- it is springing up. The smallest remnants of the snowstorms are almost gone.

See- I am doing a new thing. Can't you see it?

That is a promise.

And often, no, we cannot see it because we are not ready or expecting it in our lives. We can never go back and have last year's spring or the trip to the circus from 6th grade or, for that matter, even yesterday's joys or sorrows ever again. Don't forget the past, of course, for there are the memories of life and love and hopes for the future. But don't dwell there. God is doing a new thing.

Right now.

Right here. And there. And over there, too.

And for me, most importantly, within me.