This was not the Easter season we were looking for.
And as it draws to a close, we still cannot see the end of the pandemic.
But we still cannot see the ending of hungry children in our world.
Or violence against people who are different, simply because they are different.
Or murdered and missing aboriginal women and girls.
This was not the Easter season they were looking for, either.
So, in our waiting, in our praying, in our longing, let us sit still in the quiet time, and wait in hope.
Because the Spirit of Pentecost is promised, the Spirit who inspires, and who fills, and who empowers, and who points, and who sends.
It won’t be the Pentecost we, or they, were expecting either.
But maybe that will be ok.