Marching to Pentecost

As some may have noticed, the Lenten blog died an early death this year. I kept writing, I just had to stop publishing because frankly, it was too personal. Life has taken some major turns this spring and not all of my internal monologue has been appropriate for public consumption. So, for a while, this blog became a diary and it lives only on my personal computer. Which is okay. I believe it is good to express oneself but sometimes it is also good to shut the hell up. I hope I can share some of this thought process at a future time, but for now it was enough just to write, and knowing I did not for once, have to think about what I said.

So now I reemerge. I don't know how regular this will be. I'm in the process of moving my family for the second time in two years. At least this time around it is just under a thousand miles, instead of two thousand. I'm also on the cusp of a new career, although I am still carrying my current work with me. Some days I feel like my chest will explode with the stress and other days I am happily anticipating the blessed relief that will come with a change of scene. Most days it is all of the above with a side of whatever unexpected crisis is along for the ride this week. As my husband reminds me, at least we're not fleeing the Germans in WWII, trudging through the snow with all our belongings and our child strapped to our backs. So there is that.

Here we are then, Lent is done, Easter has come and forward we march to Pentecost, when the tongues of flame will appear and the Spirit will speak to us and all will be made clear. Or at least we can hope. Thankfully we still have several weeks to get there.