For my entire life I have
traveled up and down Highway 48 East of Regina. It is a simple highway to drive;
nothing complicated. There are a few curves, lots of straight-a-ways, the
occasional dip, usually not too many potholes and plenty of beautiful farmland
to see. This highway is part of my holy ground as it always leads me home. In
leading me home it also has markers along the way which anchor and remind me
hope lives here.
Like the burning bush Moses
encountered which caused him to remove the sandals from his feet (Exodus 3.1-8),
I too have had encounters of the living God along this highway. Whether it has
been visiting with my Goddaughters and their families, or enjoying a visit to
the family homesteads or connecting with family, I have removed my shoes many a
time encountering God the great I AM. I have prayed in nearly every Catholic
church on this highway, wept at funerals, rejoiced at weddings and delighted in
baptisms. I have made pilgrimages to the Calvary Memorial Shrine Site at
Candiac, to the cemeteries along this highway, and I have stood before many a
nativity scene in front of churches and homes. These holy ground moments remind
me God, the great I AM, is with us in all the moments of life. I have been
guided home by streetlights, farm lights, the Candiac cross lights and the
front lights of my parent’s home. Each time I make this pilgrimage of hope I am
reminded God, the great I Am is gracious and abounding in steadfast love (Psalm
103).
No matter which season I am
traveling Highway 48 there is always one marker I look for on the journey. It’s
not a burning bush per se but always captures my attention. It’s not a fig tree
needing tending too, but it has been left alone for one year more and this
always makes me glad. When driving East on the 48 just past Kendal on a little
bluff stands a lone tree. It stretches its branches to the west in an uneven manner.
It’s not a very big tree but remains sturdy. Sometimes cattle are grazing
around it, other times it seems to shudder in the cold Saskatchewan wind, but
still it remains. I have the buds in spring and have seen years of full green
leaves. It stands out against the harvest sky and is majestic when adorned by
frost; it really is a tree for all seasons.
As a child when we were traveling
West on the highway this tree was the beacon of hope indicating we would soon
be at our Grandparents. When traveling East it was the reminder I was coming
from the holy ground of time spent with one set of Grandparents and would soon
be embraced by my other Grandparents.
I’ve been thinking about this lone
prairie tree as we enter this Third Week of Lent. Both the burning bush
encounter of Moses and the fig tree of the vineyard in the parable of Jesus
(Luke 13.1-9) we hear this Lenten Sunday called it to mind. This tree has been
a sign of hope for me my whole life and I bet it has for countless others who
have passed by it; for my mom tells me it has been there for her whole life.
I’m so grateful it has been left “alone for one more year” by the farmers of
the field in which it stands. This tree speaks to me the message of hope which
is the undertone of the parable shared by Jesus.
The gardener begging for one more
year to tend the tree is the reminder of how God gives us time to grow, for
conversion of heart, to mend relationships and to bear fruit. As we step
further into Lent let us be attentive to the tending we need to do in our lives
and in our relationships. You never know when a burning bush may appear. As we
continue in this Jubilee Year let us be attentive to the beacons of hope along
the highway of life. Let us be attentive to the holy ground on which we tread. Let
us be brave enough to say again, “Here I am” as we pilgrimage onward.
