Gray

It's a gray day today, with a light rain. Actually, it started turning gray late yesterday afternoon. Nothing too unusual about that here in southeast Texas. Gray, rainy days and southeast Texas seem to go together.

However, this week is Holy Week, when Christians recall the last week of Jesus' life.

Last Sunday was a bright, sunshine-y day. The weather couldn't have been better. Just perfect for the drive to the Houston area to preach that morning and then take a late afternoon ramble with the Penster. Not a bad day for a Palm Sunday.

Then yesterday, Maundy Thursday, about the time the Penster and I took our early evening ramble, the clouds began to gather and the sun began to go into hiding. Somehow I associate that kind of weather with Jesus and the disciples heading toward that Last Supper together. Kind of like even the weather is aware that something is about to happen.

Then today. Good Friday.

It's been pretty gray all day. I checked the Weather Channel and the radar showed no rain in the area. So the Penster and I started our (almost) daily stroll about 3pm. The gray sky began to toss some mist toward the ground, and now there's this light rain, not quite drizzle, falling steadily.

I realize that we're not on Jerusalem Daylight Savings Time around here, but having the gray and the rain and all reminds me of the dark, uncertain, waiting time that the disciples experienced on that Black/Good day long ago. They didn't know it was Good yet. All they knew was that their hopes seemed to have been placed on a cross and left to die a horrible death.

It seems singularly fitting to wait in the gray along with the disicples. I don't know what my personal future will hold, but then, neither did the disciples. These last months have been waiting, healing, preparing for a future unknown.

So for now the world is waiting in gray.

But I live in a time of already, but not yet, and trust that there will be an Easter of knowing and sunshine and hope.