"Where is their God?"

March madness today: work, cleaning, meetings, drive and drive some more, then a very noisy grade school basketball game followed by a noisy restaurant. Now the quiet hum of the computer is almost soothing, the "om" of online. I wish the sound could move into my hip and take away the cramp there.

But it will take yoga to do that. To unite quietness within and quietness without, breath and body, spirit and flesh, my waywardness and God's will for me.

Inhale. Exhale.

Nobody will leave me alone long enough for me to get to that state. And my spirit is not happy in my body, because my body is working really hard to digest a hot dog with everything and french fries.

I just read again the Ash Wednesday Old Testament lesson from Joel: the day of the Lord is coming and it devours everything--but it may not be too late. "Yet even now," says the Lord, "return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning. . . . Why should it be said among the peoples, 'Where is their God?'"

Repentant people should fast and mourn and rend their hearts and all that, but they should also act like they expect God to come and help them. ("C'mon God, do you wanna look bad here?")

Repenting witnesses to God's good will for us. Let it be said among the peoples of the world, "Here's a God you can trust."

I'll go do the yoga--the thing that is good for me--and trust that God's quietness will arrive on its own, whether I'm interrupted or not, no matter how those onions are sitting on my stomach.