In a rush, I lit the candles on my altar today. I was in the middle of at least three other conversations. It was automatic, cleaning out the old wax from the votives first, replacing them with new ones, long wicks, while I settled an argument between my boys. We got a late start today. There was no time for quiet, no time for waiting and listening and silent prayer and deep metania.
Still, I lit the candles on my altar and kissed my husband goodbye as he walked out the door for work and bellowed to my son to put on his shoes so we could go to his day camp. If not now, when? The day never winds down, it only winds up, tension building, tempers flaring, time squeezing. We’re always in a rush.
God meets us where we are, in my estimation, even in a rush.