This week, I have been running ragged. Preparations for Holy Week, which are always consuming the week before it begins, have coincided with a personal obligation that has generated a lot of anxiety and taken a lot of time. And so I have been racing around from one place to another, trying to hold it all together with spit and rubber bands, and praying for grace.
This morning, as I was racing out of my apartment yet another time, under the gun, I passed a car parked on my street and saw through the window a young mother holding a very tiny sleeping baby. Our eyes met and she broke into a radiant smile, and I found myself responding with one, too: they were just so beautiful. They were an icon of love.
Jesus says, “I am the good shepherd….If anyone enters by me, he will be saved, and will go in and out and find pasture.” (John 10) Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that pasture is all around us: not some great verdant field, rolling in all directions, but little hints of light amid the rush, if only we have eyes to see them. The ancient Hebrews traveled from one oasis to another, seeking the next bit of shade, the next trickle of water, the next grove with a few dates. It was not much, only blessing. Only life.
Lord Christ, grant us eyes to see.