This God is our God for ever and ever,
and shall be our guide for evermore.
Psalm 48:13

I hear the hum of the washer and I see the fallen leaves from a house plant that need to be swept up and the pile of things to be dealt with carefully curated on my desk while today’s calendar runs through my head. Where is the sacred in all of this?

Outside my window the sun shines on a cold and damp landscape, still winter-bare though quickly giving way, and suddenly I am afraid I have missed the opportunity to envelope myself fully in the season of quiet, interior growth. I still yearn for long stretches of contemplation bundled in a heavy sweater while simultaneously savoring the mystery of unfolding buds revealing leaves and early blossoms.

Just out of my sight, I know that houseplant is about to bloom. It leans towards the window, tiny buds stretching toward the spring sun, eager to soak up its energy. And there, I realize, is bundled up all the yearning and expectancy and hope. Slowly and silently this creation of God’s has been steadily divulging the ongoing mystery of new life.

God is here, always. And God guides me, scatters my daily path with direction and encouragement. The holy invitation to enter deeply into the stream of living water never expires.