Holy Week It’s time to walk tenderly along the rutted road feet blistered bare and dusty trouble plodding doggedly at your heels When hope is all that remains and your palms are rope-burned red make of faith and doubt a lifeline, not a noose and grasp tight despite the pain Gather up grief and despair lay them in baskets woven from reed and tears then lay your woes before the one who will not stay entombed Build an altar caged by ribs for the one who animates your every breath from birth to death who soon (all too soon) will cradle you home What He Said After Dinner In a moment I am leaving you In a moment I am gone returning to the One from whom I have come It will be time for you to be lost without me Time for you to wander the landscape of your familiar only to find it utterly desolate completely foreign I can’t tell you how to manage how to create a life from ashes only to say that you will do it It is your nature to grasp the limb of hope hold fast against the river of events that will sweep me away When you arrive safe on the other shore you will wail gnash your teeth curse the one who made us After you have blamed yourself for what you did not do you will catch sight of me scratch your head and wonder convinced that you are mistaken that my return is impossible Listen to your heart leap with recognition believe In that moment the entire world will change Wrestling the Good from Friday
On this day of your suffering and crucifixion we on the far side of the resurrection remember more than we mourn— Our hope refuses to die but what of yours, Dear Teacher? Do you know hanging from your cross as the sun is eclipsed that you have not been forsaken that “It is finished” becomes a beginning? O Sweet Savior we weep for the many times we did not understand or believe the truths you tried to tell us. For us the tomb is always empty come Easter. Though we have failed you though we do not deserve it salvation arrives. We live through these bleak days because, finally, we believe in you. Now, we beg you just this once, to believe in us.
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I began blogging about "This or Something Better" in 2011 when my husband and I were discerning what came next in our lives, which turned out to be relocating to Puget Sound from our Native California. My older posts can be found here.
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