Wind.

It's blowing on us as we stand at a ridge on the trail overlooking trees that aren't green yet and beyond, where buildings would be if we could see them. The trees are leafless, the trunks still straight lines of brown raising themselves into the air. The Tennessee dirt is beneath us, rocks and forest rubble guiding us along the path. I'll realize later the platforms of my white tennis shoes are now brown, but I won't bother cleaning them.

The wind gusts up from below us, the trees catching it and sending it upon us in the clearing. It is powerful and strong and goes for a long time without stopping, blows our unzipped coats open, and, cold, I zip mine up. My friend experiences God as wind, and watching her stand there, arms out, in delight, I am reminded of the Holy Spirit's presence within and around us, of all the ways this gift tells us of our God's love for us. I am reminded of God's desire to be felt in a tangible way, of the way the Spirit helps us recognize God's invisible, faithful presence, of our Lord's steadfastness and desire to delight us.

I am reminded of the first man, when God blew God's breath into his nostrils, and this unification of body and Spirit caused him to become alive. He is settled into a home by God is asked to cultivate and care for it, loving his wife and eating the best of foods.

I am reminded of Jesus' appearance to his disciples in John 20:22, when Jesus breathes on his friends, telling them to have peace, receive the Spirit and forgive sins. They are sent to set people free from all that imprisons them.

I am reminded of Pentecost in Acts 2:2, when "Suddenly, there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were." The disciples are filled with the Holy Spirit and given the gift of being able to speak directly to each person present despite their differences. They settle together into life-giving community, caring for each other as their own self.

In these sometimes-blustery days of March and April, when it's raining and the wind knocks against the walls of our bodies and homes, let us think of this wind not as threatening but as a reminder of the Holy Spirit, of the sort of wild desire our God has to get to us, the sort of wild way God wants us to recognize God's presence all around and within us.

Let us turn our attention to God when we feel the wind and let God encompass our being in God's self, awakening to the reality that the very Spirit of God is through, in and with us. Let us remember that we, too, are called to cultivate and care for what we've been given, are sent to free people from their prisons, are asked to live in union with those around us, inviting others in.

Send.