I followed Yours because it was so full of life,
so strong and resolute with every pulse.
Now it is silent. Mine is too.
I fixed mine upon Yours so that it might flower,
but now Yours has withered like grass.
Must hearts always fade?
Has Love’s river withdrawn its lifeblood?
Death has no impulse to replace it
so I will not rise again.
on Job 14:1-14
On this Lenten way,
O God of every good way
we pray for all that is to come:
for the path through stormy waters
and for those pummeled by the storm
until the path becomes clear;
for the avenues toward peace
and for those surrounded by warring chariots
until the rage of war is quenched;
for the riverbeds of restoration
and for those parched in the wilderness
until the rainy season comes;
for the intersections of community
and for those bypassed for their imago dei
until the crossroads are the heart.
Make a holy way
through this Lenten way,
we pray. Amen.
on Isaiah 43:16-21
cross-posted on RevGalBlogPals
I thought we made a good team
You and I,
Thou and Thine.
It seemed we might partner to your glory
Spirit and flesh,
Holy and blessed.
Yet here we are apart, forsaken by sin,
Lover and beloved,
Seeker and sought.
Can we be together across our division,
Creator and dust,
Lustrous and lost?
Still trying to grow,
O Jesus, Gardener of Life.
Still trying to heal,
O Jesus, Redeemer of Dust.
Still trying to serve,
O Jesus, Host of the Banquet.
Don’t dig up this fig tree yet.
Don’t abandon me to my bleeding.
Don’t kick me out for lack of a dinner robe.
Perhaps today, something new?
Perhaps today, an answer?
Perhaps today, faith?
But today, at least, breath.
Ah merciful God, yes: at least breath.