But this past Sunday we sprung our clocks forward. The light now begins to stretch itself to last just ever so much longer each day. The birth of the first bloom is waiting to burst. If your lucky enough to live in the South, some of those buds have already shown their true colors. But the full flourish of spring is not yet here. Signs of life are hinted at if you pause long enough to see, but the cold still lingers and the trees are still waiting to dress their full glory. We wait and we hope for the light and life of Spring to come and show her face.
In the season of Lent we find ourselves in that space between the darkness and the light. Here, in that dim haziness we try to make our way.
Recently, I have found myself waking up in the middle of the night, in that space between the dreaming and the living, disoriented with foggy eyes, wondering who and where I am. I find myself searching desperately for something familiar, some sign of life to keep the darkness and panic from grabbing on too tight. I'm looking for just a sliver of light to reveal what is true. It is so much harder to find your way in that heavy, thick blanket of night.
Come, o come, Light of the World. Help us find our way to You.

