Pathway into Lent

Morning prayer, meditation comes easy, lovingly, and slips me into each day with a sweet note, ringing out, especially during the Lenten season, when little sacrifices often reveal hidden treasures, times when there is little, so the joy of the small brings forth a great surprise.  Today was such a day, and I am eager to share it with each of you.  My granddaughter popped into my bedroom early, looking for someone to play with her.  No one else was up, so we made our way up the stairs to the main floor, and into the kitchen, where it was decided we would have fruit for breakfast.  Honey crisp apples were washed and sliced, setting the cores aside for the rabbits, squirrels, and birds.  Next, we washed Asian pears, raspberries, and strawberries.  She took her plate to the table, but this time I lingered at the kitchen sink, recalling what just happened.  It was different, the washing, the slicing.  While cutting down either side of the core of the apples and pears, I was aware of the sound made by the knife, slicing through the fruit, the sound made when the knife reached the chopping block, the rhythm of it all.  I noticed the dance of the water, the sound, and the feel of it, as the fruit was washed.  I was paying attention to the rhythm and the sound of preparation, rather than going through the motions, without consideration.  Then, as I stood, looking out the window, over the sink, I became aware of the motion, within my mouth, as I ate a slice of crisp apple.  I was conscious of the taste, immediately.  This time it seemed stronger, more sensational, as I breathed in the taste and the aroma, at the same time.  Then, after the first bite, came the chewing.  My teeth crushed the apple.  My tongue, without apparent thought from me, moved the apple pieces into place, effortlessly, until the apple was almost juice in my mouth.  My mouth was working, each part in motion to carry out the task, and I was the beneficiary of it all.  Do not ever recall so much joy in the eating of a single slice of apple before.  But then came a flood of memories of other apples, times of eating apples beneath the tree from which they fell, times of receiving one apple slice after another from my grandmother as we rocked on the front porch.  This morning there was a stream of gratitude and thanksgiving as I ate one apple slice.   The memories, the motion, the acknowledging of each aspect brought it all together as a prayer.  Paying attention to the rhythm, the sound, the thought of it all resurrected new life, which was found with my granddaughter, at the sink, in the kitchen, at the dawn of a new day.  Thank you for sharing this Lenten season with me.

The reading I have chosen today is from Isaiah 55:1

The Reading

February 24, 2024

“Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost?”  Isaiah 55:1