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.
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.