Tag Archives: Lent

second loneliness

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Dogwoods on Easter 2

It has been an unusual Lent
to say the least
The devotional has been an old one I came across
of Henri Nouwen’s from Mt Vernon
on the Prodigal Son

I am broken open
this Lent
by this old story, this parable of a wayward child
and his truculent brother and loving father

I think of his mother and her fear for her younger son
and the weariness of that sad fear.
The relief and busy-ness of killing
the fabled fatted calf for a celebration and readying for guests,
trying to assuage her eldest sons pouts and consternation,
when all she wants to do is sit quietly
in her chair and be happy her son is home.

And I wonder if those thirty six righteous men are working
their asses off researching the vaccine to save humanity.
Or if they are wandering from place to stay-in-place,
just trying to find a soft chair to sit in
and a cold glass of water to drink.

Its all that ‘second loneliness’ that broke my chest open.
All that second loneliness for the world in all its pain and beauty
All that second loneliness in isolation
All this second loneliness, Lent 2020

pandora’s box

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Feb Bluebird

Sometimes, without noticing,
I nudge the lid open
and out spills
those sadnesses, deep and heavy.

Regrets, not so much of things
I didn’t have,
but conduct and words I wish
I had done or not
done.

Small things that I remember,
disappointments I could have changed
into morning glories,

bright blue and heavenly
as the Madonna’s cloak.

***First Sunday of Lent 2019

parable

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You are the parable:
the lost lamb, the goat amongst sheep,
a mustard seed, the feast
and the dinner guests,
a fig tree, barren and budding.

All these stories are your story-
the prodigal-
Don’t you remember that time when you fought
and said things you shouldn’t have
and all that stuff was so unforgivable.
But it wasn’t.
And now here you are with a family and children
of your own and you are cherished beyond
measure.

Or you are the eldest, the good girl that never
gave them a minutes worry. And you had to welcome
that no good son of bitch back
after he climbed out of the pig sty and cleaned himself up.

But now you know,
’cause you have been the prodigal too.

A parable, a pearl of great price, a seed sown in good soil,
a wise servant, a friend at midnight.
One who was lost
now found.

Lent 2019

mercy

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Early Spring morning storm clouds

is it irony
this leaving of cold dark winter
into the light of spring
just as he learns of the darkness in his body
and the radiation that will slow its journey
into spring
and his lessened future.

is it mercy
this praying for his life, his light
we have nothing to sacrifice other
than the burnt offering that he will become
under the merciless eye of
the ticking machine
and his lessoned future

love and friendship are our only traveling mercies
as he journeys into the spring of his foreseeable future

Psalm 51:15-17 Lent 2019

A good friend begins his journey. We are walking with him on his path as far as we can. We love him so and ask for mercy.

rend not

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Unconsciously, I think my husband knows its Ash Wednesday,
the beginning of Lent.
He is busy arranging things on the table top
and the smell of bleach cleaner is coming from the bathroom
where he has sprayed down the shower stall.

I need to dust, our prescribed arrangement of household chores,
he vacuums, I dust.
Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, I sing song to myself
as I look for the Murphy’s Oil Soap.

I tear an old towel into pieces-
Rend not your clothing, but your heart, the prophet tells us.
My heart has had enough rending, thank you very much, and
I think it is high time to darn the pieces together again.

So this is my Ash Wednesday prayer, this beginning of Lent,
that my heart be stitched back into place, that
its brokenness is plastered over and smoothed.
That the grief of the past long years be no longer bright flames
but ash and dust,
ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.

Joel 2:12-13 Ash Wednesday 2019

Our Lenten Season

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Early Spring Morning

Our Lenten season continues.
Daily rituals of sacrifice and penance are observed
as we struggle with the mysteries of life.

This life filled with –
well, with those things life is filled with –
things that we love and suffer-
faces of loved ones, song, sun and moon,
food and warmth, the aching of need
and want.
We hold fast to breath
and heartbeat, far past the time our legs
and body have become undone.

I repent of all the sins I have committed
against her.
Just as each child is guilty and must be forgiven,
I also forgive her
for all those common sins that mothers commit
against their children
out of habit
or frustration
or love.

We both repent
and with ashes marked on our foreheads
continue on with her morning ablutions
and daily baptism of water
and life.

smudged ashes

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176

Soot colored snow
drifts along the frozen roads,
ice covered and tangled
with asphalt and salt.
Smudged ashes
from the Lenten service
seep deep into my forehead,
gaining traction on the slick roads
that lie ahead –
self control and penance,
penitence and prayer.
Monk-like, I long for the cave
of solitude and singular thought.
Life fills in all the edges of my mind,
rolling the stone over the tomb,
guarding from reflection
in ice covered waters
or the certainty of resurrection
in the blooming of Christ’s wounds
on the hillsides of spring.

sunday morning moments

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sunday morning reflections 2014

wavering reflection/ dawns light on the water/ prayers of thanksgiving

sound of trumpets/ wild geese overhead /processional hymn

echoing across the cove/ tiny wrens warbling song/ call to worship

frothy white pear blossoms/ peek out from the woods/ little girls in church

small brown chipmunk/ perched on the gray stone wall/ morning meditations

small fishing boats/ bobbing in the morning cove/ gestures of faith

across the warming meadow/ cacophony of birdsong/ sunday morning choir practice

morning wakes/ shrouded in gray mist/ prayers of intercession

quiet murmuring/ pale gray doves in the cedars/ lenten prayers

from the cedar tops/ blue jays call/ shouts of acclamation

cold wind ruffles the morning cove/ sound of waves against the rocky shore/ prayers of the penitent

from the cold winter garden/ bright golden trumpets of daffodils/ intrusion of grace

*** This is the scene that greeted me this morning as I was filling the birdfeeders – such a glorious sky and reflections – hope you have a beautiful day