shore
By Rima Vesely-Flad
there were no roads in the Sahara
we rode out into the desert, into vast
space, searching. Tuareg nomads,
makeshift tents, camels in the distance.
a soft sun sank and the desert
rose into its own fire. wind licked
my skin, sand blew into the crevices
of my body. scalp, ears, toes.
that was the time in which i
hungered, when every movement in
my life was an act of leaving. i began
to want boundaries, a shore, an edge.
containment. a place to land.
beyond words, beyond a horizon, there
was a way of moving into the wind.
opening to the presence of Jesus on
water. rowing to shore. just
believing a shore existed.
This poem is a reflection on the 21st chapter of John's Gospel.
Is New Jersey the best state for Lent? There is certainly enough guilt to go around - and well-deserved guilt it is, too. We have madated that it is not okay to be a bully here, yet Jerseylicious and Jersey Shore, and the ghosts of The Sopranos still role model that for us at every click of the remote.
I feel a little Lenty in New Jersey and will spend some time over the next forty days walking down that ashy street to the intersection of Palm and Tenebrae. God tries to enter our hearts in various circuitous ways throughout the year. Sometimes he tries to sneak in a meaningful moment during a crackling hymn on Christmas morning, before the house is filled with crumple wrapping paper and purple plastic from Little Tykes. Sometimes He's hiding in a pink candle on an Advent wreath, waiting to drip down on some fake ivy. During Lent, I think He's waiting for us to come to Him, being present in the nothing special, the emptiness, the no decorations, the lights that are turned off.
I like Lent. It makes me feel like starting something wonderful. I have given up some unimportant things that have become too important, but I am mostly looking forward to moving toward the center. I just started the Stephen R. Covey book The Speed of Trust. I am going to begin there. For Lent, I am giving up not trusting. Let's see.
Keep reading and writing,
Maureen
