Wind seems to be a constant companion for us here on the prairies. There are days when the wind is but a slight breeze, gently caressing your face. On other days, it feels like the wind will blow you over, pushing you where it wants. Today was one of these days. When the wind is strong, a song moves through my mind.

Veni Sancte Spiritus. Veni Sancte Spiritus. Veni Sancte Spiritus.

Come, Holy Spirit, from heaven shine forth with your glorious light.
     Veni Sancte Spiritus.

Come from the four winds, O Spirit, come, breath of God; disperse the shadows over us, renew and strengthen your people.
     Veni Sancte Spiritus.

The melody of this simple Taizé song is meditative. An act of prayer, the words are lifted high on notes wafting through the air like the gentle breeze.

The myriad of voices singing pulls you in. You find yourself enveloped in the rich harmonies as the voices sing Veni Sancte Spiritus (Come Holy Spirit). Emerging from the harmonies, one voice sings a petition. The words ring out in my head: Come from the four winds, O Spirit, come, breath of God; disperse the shadows over us, renew and strengthen your people.

The thing about wind is that we do not see it. All we can do is see, hear, and feel the effects of its presence. We hear the leaves rustling on the branch. We see stalks of grain dancing in a field like dancers who move in tandem across a stage. We see flowers that bend and flow to a tune only they can hear. We feel the wind as it touches our skin, causing the hair on our arms to stand up.

These days, I feel like a leaf caught in the motion of the wind. Uncertain where the Spirit is blowing me. My discernment feels tossed about by the strong movement of the air that surrounds me. The air that I breathe, the air that sustains my life, the air that renews my cells and strengthens me. So, I put my face into the wind. I feel the gusts of air swirl about me, enveloping me in their motion. I hear the wind as it fills my ears, beckoning me to trust its motion and presence. I may not know where next I am to be called as pastor, but like the wind that knows its destination, the Spirit knows my destination.

So I sing Come Holy Spirit, Veni Sancte Spiritus.