On being dark and cold

The sound of God in my ears is an occasion of great joy, which is for now ‘inexpressible’. There is blessing in the longing and the looking. We remember that at Advent too, but in Lent as we trace His footsteps through the desert and the parched land, we draw comfort in the confidence that it will burst into blossom like the crocus. We fast because of the feast. For now, I wonder how to sing: the answer will be ‘Alleluia’.

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