Today I couldn’t help it. I went to the gym to work out, but after about 30 minutes, I left. The sun was calling out my name, and I needed to be outside, not more inside.

As soon as I got home, I grabbed my dog’s stretchy leash, the one that gives her more freedom, and the two of us took to the yard. She went one direction, sniffing, I, the other, sniffing. And the two of us spent a happy 20 minutes sniffing around.

Of course, I with the opposable thumbs also did some poking and pulling and picking, checking out the new growth that came up seemingly overnight on my bushes and apple trees. I picked up a few more sticks to add to the growing pile, and I pulled up a few dead things to add to my compost bin.

This is what I love about Spring and the Lenten season that runs parallel. The darkness and dampness of winter lends itself to the introspection and repentance we need on a regular basis. But just when we are not sure we can continue on in the wilderness, like yesterday for me, the Lord sees and cares and brings us the hope of a sunny day and the warming ground.

We can easily start to believe the lies of the wicked when we are in the wilderness for a while, that our sin and despair are outside the purview of our Savior. Like in Psalm 94, when the “wicked” call out to the people of God, “The Lord does not see, Nor does the God of Jacob pay heed.”

But the Psalmist knows better. To the wicked, he says, “YOU pay heed . . . He who planted the ear, does He not hear? He who formed the eye, does He not see?”

The Lord has seen indeed and lifted my soul out of the dark place. Yesterday, I cried out in my day of trouble with the Psalmist. Today, I find my delight with him. 

“When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your consolations delight my soul.” — Psalm 94:19