Lent, Poetry, Sabbatical

Lent 1

It’s possible I take it all too seriously,
As if each word were meant for me.

I read and write and pray,
But to what end?

Worship was work–
A job done well (or not),
Reviewed in the car,
Or over lunch, then filed away.

Jesus tempted? Check.
What’s next?
Move on to Lent 2.

But now I have not studied ahead.
I don’t know what’s coming.
I did not choose the hymns,
Arrange the prayers.

I did not spend my week
Walking dogs and weaving words,
Buying milk and building concepts,
Folding laundry and feeling texts.

I arrive and listen.

Jesus in the wilderness–
am I not on walkabout?
I feel so thirsty.

I drink in prayers and preaching.

I leave deep-drunk on words and Word.

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2 thoughts on “Lent 1”

  1. This was my first Ash Wednesday that I wasn’t imposing ashes on anyone. I warned my friends that if their foreheads were bare I might throw dirt on them. I experienced grief all day, and as I continue the job search I, too, am feeling a little lost… or at least, adrift. It’s hard to enjoy the time off with all the anxiety of “what’s next?”

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