Yes!

2 Corinthians 1:19-20

Christ is risen and so am I:

   my first thought on waking today.

What great surprise—

   the powers that rule are overthrown

   not by force but by love.

Greed, jealousy, hate, fear outwitted.

Peace, joy, grace, abundance flow

drowning the armies of small-mindedness.

Sing, dance, praise the God of life,

the God of love,

the God of YES!

Holy Saturday

1 Kings 19:11-13

Holy Saturday recalls those times of waking up

to find no miracle. What you hoped was a dream

isn’t.

The pain of loss sharp, acute.

The storm has wreaked its havoc.

Life as it was is gone

forever.

Shock and disorientation immobilize.

The mind too numb to imagine new.

Be still.

Wait.

Forsaken

Mark 15:33-34

It may be the aloneness after death,

when all have returned to their homes

and you are left with memories and emptiness.

It may be the grind of medical treatments

that ravage body and spirit

by their seeming neverendedness.

It may be a child's innocent request for candy

that makes the heart ache,

weighed against unpaid bills and an empty refrigerator.

It may be the weariness of living

with misunderstanding, betrayal and false accusation.

It may be the daily fear of deportation

or bullying or prejudice.

It may be the experience of exile with no place to go

or a caregiver who receives no respite.

It may be a man who hangs on a cross.

Forsakenness is the darkest of days,

the deepest pit, the absolute emptiest . . . hopelessness.

God Who Understands

Psalm 56

When life abruptly changes

   God have mercy on me.

When friends become betrayers

   God have mercy on me.

When I have been wrongly accused

   God have mercy on me.

When the next step is utterly dark

   God have mercy on me.

When I feel alone in the wilderness

   God have mercy on me.

When I struggle to trust you

   God have mercy on me.

Remind me of your faithful love,

   God of mercy.

Be my companion, my savior,

   God of gentleness.

All my hope is in you,

   God who overcomes.

You have traveled the path of suffering yourself

   and you travel it with me.

Thanks be to you, O God.

Entombed

John 11:1-44

Jesus, I think of you crying at the grief of your friends,

Martha and Mary, and over the death of Lazarus.

Even in your tears you were disparaged by others.

We can be so cynical and mean to each other.

Maybe your tears were also because of that.

Today, Christ, you still cry for those entombed and those

who love them, whether the tomb is death,

prison, disease, oppression or fear.

You cry for the cynics, the proud and powerful who

do not even know they are dead, who are unaware

they are entombed by their pride, their power, their hate.

The stench is terrible and you cry.

But you do not turn away.

You remove the stone.

You call us out of the tomb.

You unbind us and set us free.

You have the power to speak us into life.

Are we listening?

Exuberance

Jeremiah 31:2-13

Grace in the wilderness!

A foretaste of freedom, of life

abundant, new, filled with surprise!

God-sized gifts, deepest longings met,

my heart bursts with love and praise.

Loved with a love that lasts

forever. Forever! Home—

extravagant garden of God’s heart.

I dance and dwell in gratitude,

laughter my song of joy!

Songs of Praise

Psalm 148

Rambling robin song greets me in the early morning darkness.

Wrens and mockingbirds belt out their praise and I wonder—

how does the wren bring so much volume from its tiny body,

how does the mockingbird remember all the songs it sings?

When I’m lucky, I hear the soft lament of the song sparrow,

reminding me that lament is also praise.

And in the morning light the starlings’ song makes me smile.

Each bird sings its praise using its unique voice, and so it is with us.

What song am I given to sing?

What song is yours?

Arboretum

Genesis 2:4-14

Season after season I walks these paths.

Always they are fresh, offering me

something new, hawking their wares loudly or

coyly challenging me to discover what’s changed

since last I ventured here. My eyes, ears and feet

argue—who will lead the way? So much to see,

so much to hear—I’m almost frozen in place taking it in,

though my feet, like police, say move on, move on.

For all I see, I still miss much.

My brain cannot process all the sounds I hear, and my feet

never get to walk as far and fast as they’d like.

With such abundance in one small place

I cannot fathom the superfluity of God in all the world.

Welcome

Luke 19:1-6

“. . . come down at once. I must stay in your home today.”

Possessions and demands once occupied my life—

stuff to do, stuff to tend. Schedule and home

clutter weighed me down, wearied me.

Simplicity of home and heart now allows for spontaneity.

Lightness of spirit makes for hospitable space. I have room

for laughter, love, tears and koinonia—room for what is

most precious.

Welcome friends.

Welcome love.

Welcome life.

Welcome Christ.

Threshold

Genesis 32:6-12

Sometimes the threat seems bigger than we can address.

We feel small and alone even surrounded by people who love us.

Sometimes way forward is impossible to see, and we feel trapped—

unable to go back and afraid to take a step into an unknown future.

That is when memory gifts us (if we let it)

with experiences from earlier times when we were in a similar place

and lived through it by God’s faithfulness.

Jacob came full circle, beginning with a desert promise,

recalled as he stood at another desert threshold.

Life gives us many such places—thresholds,

points of uncertainty, tension and challenge—places of coming

full circle, of familiar unfamiliarity, where we know

we may be afraid, but we won’t be alone.

Awareness

Psalm 36:5-9

Today I will drink

from God’s river of pure joy.

My spirit shall dance!

Today I will bask

in God’s light until I see

that all bear God’s light.

Today I will live

within the Trinity dance

as all creatures do.

Signs and Wonders

Daniel 4:1-8

Generous God, I cannot begin to name

all the signs and wonders you have shown me,

especially in the recent past. Kindnesses

sent when I was at my lowest, surprises when a

word read affirmed or clarified an earlier thought,

opportunities more abundant than I could have imagined.

Some were truly improbable—

the red bird that crashed into a window beside me.

As it lay on the ground and drew its last breath, I was given

the answer to a troubling question. The dream that revealed

something I could not have known any other way.

The weight of unseen hands on my head, blessing me

for a journey I didn’t know was coming.

You are a God who constantly surprises.

Thank you for all love’s expressions, for the way

you reveal yourself time and time again. Amen.

Bread

Matthew 6:9-13

Bird song, fresh air,

time to sit quietly,

meaningful work and meaningful people

to do it with,

laughter, coffee, exercise,

relationships of depth and knowing

and flowers—these are gifts

that feed my spirit, radiate

God’s presence, nurture my heart.

These are my daily bread.

Junaluska

Job 9:1-12

Holy One, I remember how I felt, lying in bed,

awake, unable to sleep. Each night

I managed only a couple of hours.

Those were interminably long, lonely nights.

I ached for your comforting presence,

but though I knew you were present

I found no warmth, nothing to ease the void

of darkness.

It was then that I had to draw on faith, on resources

within, on memories that testified to your love and provision.

And friends, who loved me in the day so I could last through the night.

A place I love so much, that had been a thin place

felt heavy, thick and barren of all it had ever given me. I moved

as one moving in bitter cold—hunched, stiff.

Job, I hear your anguish, and the memory of mine rises up in accord.

I have learned this:

what seemed insurmountable called forth faith, perseverance,

and courageous hope. I have learned that scars can make us beautiful

if we will allow them to be seen.