Lenten Devotional by Rick Seaholm
April 3, 2017
“I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours…” (Genesis 1:29, NIV)
Sanctuary. I’ve written previously in this Lenten series that it’s a given for me, according to my personal history, that hearing or seeing those nine letters will conjure up imagery from the four churches I’ve served faithfully throughout my life. But, I’ve been encouraged throughout this devotional period to begin to contemplate the same word in its many other contexts. My second post took me out of the church, swinging with Quasimodo off the bell tower of Notre Dame, only to immediately return, screaming “Sanctuary!” I’ve made special note of pieces of journalism singling out this or that mayor for declaring their communities to be “sanctuary” cities. But there is one other place that I frequently find myself, with increasing regularity about now, as the days become warmer and nights, shorter.
Nicola and I are regular hikers through state parks and Massachusetts Audubon locations within a few hours’ driving distance. A few miles here, a few there, and we always leave replenished in spirit. We may be depleted physically, craving food and water, we may even nurse a blister or two for the ride home, but there’s some indescribable boost that we always feel after a good period alone in the world.
I heard just the other day that it is not uncommon for depressed people to be “prescribed” time outdoors, a morning walk, jog, or even a newspaper sit on the back porch.
It was only this past week that I came to take to heart that alternate meaning to “sanctuary.” Many of these parks, in fact, say it on their front signage, or even on the road as you approach: “Sanctuary, turn left.” What better way to prepare oneself for the journey lies ahead. The squirrels, the deer, the flowers and trees. All God’s creations, and all protected there. I will now see the many definitions conjoined.
God, as we near the end of our Lenten faith journey, we ask that you keep us present, and aware of your goodness in all the places we stroll. Amen