A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 26: Monday after the 4th Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: The Approach of Prayer


Poem: Sonnet: Prayer
Was it in Sunday school that we were taught
That prayer only counted when by rote;
This notion somehow lodged deep when we thought
To talk to God as if reciting quotes?
The words staccato sounds in breathless rhymes--
To bless our relatives, while half-asleep;
Confessing each day’s sins with guilty minds;
The fear of “praying God our souls to keep.”

We never thought that God might answer back.
We never thought to listen without words:
To feel God’s hand in midnight’s sacred black,
To hear God’s blessing in the song of birds,
To make a grateful bowl within each heart,
To practice prayer as welcome and as art.
------------------Leslie Barnes Scoopmire, 2025



Proverb:
“Wherever there is the grace of God, human beings pray. God works in us, for we know not how to pray as we ought. It is the Spirit of God that incites us and enables us to pray in a fitting manner. We are not skilled to judge whether we are worthy or capable of praying, or whether we have sufficient zeal to pray. Grace in itself is the answer to this question. When we are comforted by the grace of God, we begin to pray with or without words.”
—----------------Karl Barth (1886-1968), Swiss systematic theologian and one of the most influential reformed theologians of the 20th century, from Prayer



Painting: Polonnaruwa, by Vasanth Warapitiya (Sri Lanka)

    


Prayer: Prayer for Opening
Dear God,
I am so afraid to open my clenched fists!
Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to?
Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands?
Please help me to gradually open my hands
and to discover that I am not what I own,
but what you want to give me.
And what you want to give me is love,
unconditional, everlasting love.
---------------Henri Nouwen (1932-1996) Dutch Catholic priest, theologian, and spiritual writer

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 25: 4th Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Prodigal Love


Poem: Happiness
There's just no accounting for happiness,
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away.

And how can you not forgive?
You make a feast in honor of what
was lost, and take from its place the finest
garment, which you saved for an occasion
you could not imagine, and you weep night and day
to know that you were not abandoned,
that happiness saved its most extreme form
for you alone.

No, happiness is the uncle you never
knew about, who flies a single-engine plane
onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes
into town, and inquires at every door
until he finds you asleep midafternoon
as you so often are during the unmerciful hours
of your despair.

It comes to the monk in his cell.
It comes to the woman sweeping the street
with a birch broom, to the child
whose mother has passed out from drink.
It comes to the lover, to the dog chewing
a sock, to the pusher, to the basketmaker,
and to the clerk stacking cans of carrots
in the night.
It even comes to the boulder
in the perpetual shade of pine barrens
to rain falling on the open sea,
to the wineglass, weary of holding wine.
--------------------- Jane Kenyon (1947-1995), American poet and translator, from The Breath of Parted Lips: Voices From the Robert Frost Place



Proverb:
“I have loved you with an everlasting love;
    therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.
------------------ Jeremiah 31:3



Painting: The Return of the Prodigal Son, Brent Kastler

     


Prayer: Place Prayer
Loving God
may we be found
and may we find
a place called home
a place where faith holds us
and grace renews us
where forgiveness longs for us
to be who you will us to be

may we find a place called home
where we are accepted as we are
where we are taken in
and loved unconditionally

a place called home
where we belong
and our souls fit
and our questions are allowed
and our anger is heard
and our needs are recognised
and our pain is held
and our names are known

and may this
be that place, O God,
this community
this group of travellers and doubters
and companions on the way

this home
where your place
is our place
and place isn’t a building
but a way of being together
in relationship
held together
by love

Loving God
Homecoming God
may we make this a home
to all who still yet seek
a place of grace-filled sanctuary
and gracious welcome

So be it.
Amen.
----------------- Roddy Hamilton, inspired by the Parable of the Prodigal Son

Scripture reference: Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32, Lent 4C

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 25: Saturday after the 3rd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Looking for Home

 

Poem: Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

--------------- Mary Oliver (1935- 2019) American poet, winner of the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize

 

 

Proverb:

“How great is the mercy of the Lord,
   and God’s forgiveness for those who return to God!”

---------------  Ecclesiasticus 17:29

 

Painting: Nine Travelers- Canada Geese, by Maynard Reece

      

 

Prayer: Blessing

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you,
wherever He may send you.
May He guide you through the wilderness,
protect you through the storm.
May He bring you home rejoicing
at the wonders He has shown you.
May He bring you home rejoicing
once again into our doors.

+In the name of the Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
---------------- The Northumbria Community, from Celtic Daily Prayer Book One: The Journey Begins

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 24: Friday after the 3rd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Conversations With God


Poems: God Speaks to the Soul; God Answers the Soul
God Speaks to the Soul
And God said to the soul:
I desired you before the world began.
I desire you now
As you desire me.
And where the desires of two come together
There love is perfected.


God Answers the Soul
It is my nature that makes me love you often,
For I am love itself.

It is my longing that makes me love you intensely,
For I yearn to be loved from the heart.

It is my eternity that makes me love you long,
For I have no end.
-------------------- Mechthild of Magdeburg (1210-1285), Medieval German mystic and poet and beguine (urban monastic), translated by Jane Hirshfield


Proverb:
“We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate. The real labour is to attend. In fact, to come awake. Still more, to remain awake.”
------------------- C. S. Lewis (1898-1963) from Letters to Malcolm, Chiefly on Prayer



Painting: Christ in Sunset, Icon by Mary Jane Miller

    


Prayer: My God, you are always close to me
My God, you are always close to me.
In obedience to you,
I must now apply myself to outward things.
Yet, as I do,
I pray that you will give me the grace of your presence.
And to this end
I ask that you will assist my work,
receive its fruits as an offering to you,
and all the while direct all my affections to you.
------------------ Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection (born Nicolas Herman) (1614-1691), French Carmelite monk, author of The Practice of the Presence of God

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 23: Thursday after the 3rd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Rebirth in Spring


Poem: Forest Song
All around I heard the whispering larches
Swinging to the low-lipped wind;
God, they piped, is lilting in our arches,
For He loveth leafen kind.

Ferns I heard, unfolding from their slumber.
Say confiding to the reed:
God well knoweth us, Who loves to number
Us and all our fairy seed.

Voices hummed as of a multitude
Crowding from their lowly sod;
’Twas the stricken daisies where I stood.
Crying to the daisies’ God.
----------Sir Shane Leslie (1885-1971), Northern Irish baronet, diplomat and poet



Proverb:
“The composer Aaron Copland got it right. An Appalachian spring is music for dancing. The woods dance with the colors of wild flowers, nodding sprays of white dogwood and the pink froth of redbuds, rushing streams and the embroidered solemnity of dark mountains.”
----------Robin Wall Kimmerer, from Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants



Painting: Early Spring Bluebonnets, Julian Onderdonk, Texas Impressionist, 1919

     

Prayer:
We give you praise, O Loving Creator,
and lift our hearts in wonder before you,
grateful for your multitudes of blessings.

Guide us into wisdom and grace,
that we may seek out the stranger and the outcast,
seeing the face of Christ in all,
drawing wide the circle of mercy and redemption,
as you call us to do, O Lord.

Lift us on the wings of hope and healing,
that we can be witnesses of your power,
and draw the world closer to You, O God,
by the generosity and love
we bear for each other and all creation.

Holy One,
your tenderness is a balm in suffering,
and a reminder of the sweetness of the life of faith:
pour out your Spirit upon us,
and gather within your embrace
all those for whom we pray.
---------------- Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 22: Wednesday after the 3rd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Desert Places


Poem: Desert Places
Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a field I looked into going past,
And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,
But a few weeds and stubble showing last.

The woods around it have it – it is theirs.
All animals are smothered in their lairs.
I am too absent-spirited to count;
The loneliness includes me unawares.

And lonely as it is, that loneliness
Will be more lonely ere it will be less –
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow
With no expression, nothing to express.

They cannot scare me with their empty spaces
Between stars – on stars where no human race is.
I have it in me so much nearer home
To scare myself with my own desert places.
----------------- Robert Frost (1874-1963) poet, four time Nobel Prize winner, and poet laureate


Proverb:
“In the beginning there is struggle and a lot of work for those who come near to God. But after that there is indescribable joy. It is just like building a fire: at first it is smoky and your eyes water, but later you get the desired result. Thus we ought to light the divine fire in ourselves with tears and effort.”
--------------------- Amma St. Syncletica of Alexandria (mid 4th century- mid 5th century), one of the “Desert Mothers,” Christian ascetics who lived in solitude in the desert



Painting: Icon of Amma St. Syncletica

     


Prayer: Desert Prayer
I am not asking you
to take this wilderness from me,
to remove this place of starkness
where I come to know
the wildness within me,
where I learn to call the names
of the ravenous beasts
that pace inside me,
to finger the brambles
that snake through my veins,
to taste the thirst
that tugs at my tongue.

But send me
tough angels,
sweet wine,
strong bread:
just enough.
—--------------- Jan Richardson, Methodist pastor, artist, and poet, from In Wisdom’s Path: Discovering the Sacred in Every Season

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 21: Tuesday after the 3rd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Claimed


Poem: Faith Knows You
Faith knows You
Beloved
In the way
The tide knows
The moon
Longing for union
Up and down
The rasping beach
Pulled by the deep
Nowhere.
--------------------Ayaz (Angus Landman), English Sufi poet



Proverb:
"The more faithfully you listen to the voice within you,
     the better you hear what is sounding outside of you."
------------------ Dag Hammarskjold (1905-1961), Swedish diplomat, devout Lutheran and mystic; the only person ever awarded the Nobel Peace Prize posthumously



Painting: Seascape by Moonlight, John Everett, English, 1892

     


Prayer: Be Thou My Well
Be thou the well by which I lie and rest;
Be thou my tree of life, my garden ground;
Be thou my home, my fire, my chamber blest,
My book of wisdom, loved of all the best;
Oh, be my friend, each day still newer found,
As the eternal days and nights go round!
Nay, nay—thou art my God, in whom all loves are bound!
----------------------George MacDonald (1824-1905), Scots poet, preacher, fairy tale writer, and editor, influence on JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis; from A Book of Strife in the Form of the Diary of an Old Soul, 1880

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 20: Monday after the 3rd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Night Prayer


Poem: I Was Never Able to Pray
Wheel me down to the shore
where the lighthouse was abandoned
and the moon tolls in the rafters.

Let me hear the wind paging through the trees
and see the stars flaring out, one by one,
like the forgotten faces of the dead.

I was never able to pray,
but let me inscribe my name
in the book of waves

and then stare into the dome
of a sky that never ends
and see my voice sail into the night.
--------------------- Edward Hirsch (1950- ), poet, author, professor, and critic 



Proverb:
“ I often think the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.”
------------------Vincent van Gogh, Dutch Impressionist painter and pastor's son



Painting: Magic Fox At Musashi Plain (100 Aspects of the Moon), Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, 1891

      

Prayer: Night Prayer
Lord,
it is night.

The night is for stillness.
Let us be still in the presence of God.

It is night after a long day.
What has been done has been done;
what has not been done has not been done;
let it be.

The night is dark.
Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives
rest in you.

The night is quiet.
Let the quietness of your peace enfold us,
all dear to us,
and all who have no peace.

The night heralds the dawn.
Let us look expectantly to a new day,
new joys,
new possibilities.

In your name we pray.
Amen.
---------------------The Rev. John Williamson, New Zealand Anglican Priest, from the service of Night Prayer in A New Zealand Prayer Book He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa, 1989.

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey--- Day 19: 3rd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Planted and Tended

Poem: My Father and the Fig Tree
For other fruits, my father was indifferent.
He'd point at the cherry trees and say,
"See those? I wish they were figs."
In the evening he sat by my beds
weaving folktales like vivid little scarves.
They always involved a fig tree.
Even when it didn't fit, he'd stick it in.
Once Joha was walking down the road
and he saw a fig tree.
Or, he tied his camel to a fig tree and went to sleep.
Or, later when they caught and arrested him,
his pockets were full of figs.

At age six I ate a dried fig and shrugged.
"That's not what I'm talking about! he said,
"I'm talking about a fig straight from the earth –
gift of Allah! -- on a branch so heavy
it touches the ground.
I'm talking about picking the largest, fattest,
sweetest fig
in the world and putting it in my mouth."
(Here he'd stop and close his eyes.)

Years passed, we lived in many houses,
none had fig trees.
We had lima beans, zucchini, parsley, beets.

"Plant one!" my mother said.
but my father never did.

He tended garden half-heartedly, forgot to water,
let the okra get too big.
"What a dreamer he is. Look how many
things he starts and doesn't finish."

The last time he moved, I got a phone call,
My father, in Arabic, chanting a song
I'd never heard. "What's that?"
He took me out back to the new yard.
There, in the middle of Dallas, Texas,
a tree with the largest, fattest,
sweetest fig in the world.
"It's a fig tree song!" he said,

plucking his fruits like ripe tokens,
emblems, assurance
of a world that was always his own.
--------------Naomi Shihab Nye (1952- ) St. Louis-born Palestinian American poet, songwriter, and novelist, from 19 Varieties of Gazelle.


Proverb:
“The single greatest lesson the garden teaches is that our relationship to the planet need not be zero-sum and that as long as the sun still shines and people still can plan and plant, think and do, we can, if we bother to try, find ways to provide for ourselves without diminishing the world.”
----------------Michael Pollan (1955- ), American journalist, environmentalist, author, critic of modern agribusiness, proponent of ethical eating



Painting: The Vine Dresser and the Fig Tree, James Tissot, France, 1886-1994

Prayer: Tended By God
We rise to center our life within You, Most Holy One:
let us kindle a song of praise within our souls,
and gather together in prayer and and faithfulness.

Plant our spirits firmly with the garden of your grace, O God,
that our roots may go deep in hope,
and we may stand upright in the company of the faithful,
nourished by your Word.
You lift up our heads when they are bowed down, Lord Christ,
and answer us from your dwelling-place
within our deepest heart.

May we embrace each other as You have embraced us,
O Shepherd of Our Souls,
and serve each other with grateful and humble hearts.

Spirit of the Living God,
pour out the power of love within us
and consecrate us to witness boldly
to your wisdom and truth.
Make your countenance to shine upon on, O Lord,
and grant your blessing and protection to those we remember before You.
Amen.
-----------------Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

Scripture Reference: Luke 13:1-9, 3rd Sunday in Lent C

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey--- Day 18: Saturday after the 2nd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Revelation


Poem: Prophecy
Sometimes a child will stare out of a window
for a moment or an hour—deciphering
the future from a dusky summer sky.

Does he imagine that some wisp of cloud
reveals the signature of things to come?
Or that the world’s a book we learn to translate?

And sometimes a girl stands naked by a mirror
imagining beauty in a stranger’s eyes
finding a place where fear leads to desire.

For what is prophecy but the first inkling
of what we ourselves must call into being?
The call need not be large. No voice in thunder.

It’s not so much what’s spoken as what’s heard—
and recognized, of course. The gift is listening
and hearing what is only meant for you.

Life has its mysteries, annunciations,
and some must wear a crown of thorns. I found
my Via Dolorosa in your love.

And sometimes we proceed by prophecy,
or not at all—even if only to know
what destiny requires us to renounce.

O Lord of indirection and ellipses,
ignore our prayers. Deliver us from distraction.
Slow our heartbeat to a cricket’s call.

In the green torpor of the afternoon,
bless us with ennui and quietude.
And grant us only what we fear, so that

Underneath the murmur of the wasp
we hear the dry grass bending in the wind
and the spider’s silken whisper from its web.
-----------------Dana Gioia (1950- ) American businessman and poet


Proverb:
“I revealed myself to those who did not ask for me;
I was found by those who did not seek me.
To a nation that did not call on my name,
I said, ‘Here am I, here am I.’”
-------------------Isaiah 65:1



Painting: The Philosopher in Meditation, Rembrandt Van Rijn, Dutch, 1632

Prayer: for Love and Light
O Lord,
in the name of Jesus Christ your Son our God,
give us that love which can never cease,
that will kindle our lamps but not extinguish them,
that they may burn in us and enlighten others.

O Christ, our dearest Savior,
kindle our lamps,
that they may evermore shine in your temple,
that they may receive unquenchable light from you
that will enlighten our darkness,
and lessen the darkness of the world.

Lord Jesus, we pray,
give your light to our lamps,
that in its light
the most holy place may be revealed to us
in which you dwell as the Eternal Priest,
that we may always see you,
desire you, look on you in love,
and long after you;
for your sake.
Amen.
---------------------Collect of the early Church, sixth century

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 17: Friday after the 2nd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: The Spirit Upon Us


Poem: A Year of Jubilee
You grew up like a sapling
With fishermen and shepherds
And the God-haunted mountains
Of your small holy country

You looked the same
As all your people
So for a time
You went unnoticed
You who were later killed
Most cruelly

One Sabbath morning
You stood up in the temple
Young village rabbi
From the provinces

And you unrolled the scroll
And read aloud from it
The Word welled up to us
Out of Isaiah's book
As fresh as the clear streams
That well up in the mountains

"The spirit of the Lord
Has come upon me
He has anointed me
To bring glad tidings
To the poor
To heal the brokenhearted
To give the blind their sight
To free the captives
Release the prisoners and proclaim
A year of jubilee"

We recognized the voice
This was the Promised One
This was the Shepherd
Our hearts were burning.

We listened when you told us
About our heavenly Father
Who wishes us
To cherish one another
To be forgiving, generous
As he is himself

And festive, carefree
As the meadow-flowers
Light as the swallows

He wishes us
To be like children

You also told us
Our Father
Bless us most of all
When we are poor

So even when our bodies
Have grown old
And our heads are filled with confusion

He will not love us
Any the less for that.
------------------- Anne Porter (1911-2011), American Roman Catholic poet, from Living Things: Collected Poems, 2006



Proverb:
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes[a] with groanings too deep for words.
------------------- Romans 8:26



Painting: Jesus in the Temple, James B. Janknegt, 2009

     


Prayer: Lamp, Confessor, Companion, Healer
Jesus, you are our lamp in our waking:
let us be filled with your light.
Jesus, you are our confessor for our sins:
let us bend the knee of our hearts in penitence and repentance.
Jesus, you are our companion in our day's journey:
let us be guided by your Spirit.
Jesus, you are our healer for our wounds and sorrows:
let us open our spirits to your touch.

Your gospel of Love, Lord, is the root of our humanity.
Your fellowship, Lord, reminds us that we are all One.
Your mercy, Lord, is the ground of our hope.
Your grace, Lord, reminds us that eternal life begins now.
Help us to claim our heritage as your children:
renew us, that we recover our wonder and compassion.

May our prayers rise like incense to your throne,
O Holy One:
draw under your sheltering arm those for whom we pray.
Amen.
---------------- Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 16: Thursday after the 2nd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Spring

Poem: The Flower
How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean
are Thy returns! Even as the flowers in spring,
to which, besides their own demean,
the late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring.
Grief melts away
like snow in May,
As if there were no such cold thing.

Who would have thought my shrivelled heart
could have recovered greenness? It was gone
quite underground, as flowers depart
to see their mother-root, when they have blown;
where they together
all the hard weather,
dead to the world, keep house unknown.

These are Thy wonders, Lord of power,
killing and quickening, bringing down to hell
and up to heaven in an hour;
making a chiming of a passing-bell.
We say amiss
this or that is;
Thy word is all, if we could spell.

Oh, that I once past changing were,
fast in Thy paradise, where no flower can wither!
Many a spring I shoot up fair,
offering at heaven, growing and groaning thither;
nor doth my flower
want a spring shower,
my sins and I joining together.

But while I grow in a straight line,
still upwards bent, as if heaven were mine own,
Thy anger comes, and I decline.
What frost to that? What pole is not the zone
where all things burn,
when Thou dost turn,
and the least frown of Thine is shown?

And now in age I bud again;
after so many deaths I love and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
and relish versing. O my only Light,
it cannot be
that I am he
on whom Thy tempests fell all night.

These are Thy wonders, Lord of love,
to make us see we are but flowers that glide;
which when we once can find and prove,
Thou hast a garden for us where to bide.
Who would be more,
swelling through store,
forfeit their paradise by their pride.
------------------ George Herbert (1593-1633), English priest and poet, from The Temple (1633)


Proverb:
“The flowers appear on the earth;
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtle-dove
is heard in our land.”
----------Song of Songs 2:12



Painting: Almond Blossoms, Vincent Van Gogh, 1890

     


Prayer: The First Day of Spring
O God,
as Earth turns in wakefulness
from the slumber of winter
to the rising dawn of spring,
as geese arrow southward overhead,
we too turn our thoughts to home,
the sunlit home we offer us in your kingdom.

Help us gather
beneath your shining countenance.

Help us sing out your love;
let halting harmonies
become intricate tapestries of grateful praise,
for your love is steadfast and true.

May we release the stones of our cares
in the deep well of your abundant grace,
casting all our burdens
upon the promise of your mercy and care.
Teach us to walk in paths of compassion
to share from the bounty we have received
of charity, forgiveness, and holy wisdom.

O God,
cast your finest net beneath our seeking hearts
that we may be gathered when our way turns to wandering
as we long to be drawn
within the sheltering wing of your loving-kindness,
and extend your sheltering hand
beneath those for whom we pray.
Amen.
-----------Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 17: Wednesday after the 2nd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Direction and Discernment


Poem: St. Brendan’s Prayer
Sky, sky, sky is the word,
Just one shout in the direction
Of the blue vastness which weighs
Nothing and everything,

No one word can convey
How sky stings, pierces and turns
Inside out the heart of a man,
Scourges him delirious with the question
He is but cannot frame, because
Sky frames all questions, always
Stretching the asked and the asker
To the limitless blue
Upon blue upon blue deeps,

Questioning, which is fire,
Spangling night in glinting shoals
Of sidereal time, till the mind
Reels, besotted with splendour,
Questioning, which ignites the body,
Burns up every leaf of the mind,
Consumes the mind's roots, the heart,
In the smelter of spirit, till the soul
Pools, gleaming, breathing red gold,

Sky, all world, sky lights up,
Kindles with the coming sun,
Throws everything into unbearable relief,
We twist, maddened by the light
Of dawn, closing its disclosing
With departure, we stumble away,
Ever looking backwards to behold
The staggering Beauty for which
We were born belonging,
Any shadow will do,

Where we hope not to die of regret,
Because we forget just enough
To remember only sorrow, or better yet,
To feel nothing at all,
Than surrender to sky, star sky,
Grievous sky of radiant daybreak.

Is there one, is there anywhere
One Who will bend sky down, rend
Its awful vastness and descend,
The day reined in within His ardent
Glance, His wounds the burning stars
Which cover me with constellations
Of compassion, and be, Himself
My firmament and friend?
----------------------Gregory Elmer O.S.B, Dun Laoghaire, Ireland, June 5, 1995


Proverb:
“Where does my complete flowering as a human being connect with the needs of the world?”
--------------Henri J. M. Nouwen, Dutch Catholic priest, teacher, theologian and writer



Painting: The Monk By the Sea, Caspara David Friedrich, 1808-1810

Prayer: Prayer of St. Brendan the Navigator
Lord, I will trust You,

Help me to journey beyond the familiar and into the unknown.
Give me faith to leave the old ways and break fresh ground with you.

Christ of the mysteries,
Can I trust You to be stronger than each storm in me?
Do I still yearn for Your glory to lighten me?

I will show others the care You’ve given me.
I will determine amidst all uncertainty always to trust.
I choose to live beyond regret, and let You recreate my life.

I believe You will make a way for me and provide for me, if only I trust You and obey.
I will trust in the darkness and know that my times are still in Your hand.
I will believe You for my future, chapter by chapter, until the story is written.

Focus my mind and my heart upon You, my attention always on You without alteration.
Strengthen me with Your blessing and appoint to me the task.
Teach me to live with eternity in view.
Tune my spirit to the music of heaven.
Feed me, and, somehow, make my obedience count for You.

------------------ St. Brendan of Clonfert (the Navigator) (484-577 CE), Irish patron saint of Kerry and Clonfert, founder of a monastery in the Aran Islands, monastic and sailor, one of the "Twelve Apostles of Ireland" who is renowned for his sea journey with 16 other monks to find the Isle of the Blessed, aka the Garden of Eden.

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 14: Tuesday after the 2nd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Gratitude to God


Poem: Once Blessed
So that I stopped
there
and looked
into the waters
seeing not only
my reflected face
but the great sky
that framed
my lonely figure
and after a moment
I lifted my hands
and then my eyes
and I allowed myself
to be astonished
by the great
everywhere
calling to me
like an old
and unspoken
invitation,
made new
by the sun
and the spring,
and the cloud
and the light,
like something
both
calling to me
and radiating
from where I stood,
as if I could
understand
everything
I had been given
and everything ever
taken from me,
as if I could be
everything I have ever
learned
and everything
I could ever know,
as if I knew
both the way I had come
and, secretly,
the way
underneath
I was still
promised to go,
brought together,
like this, with the
unyielding ground
and the symmetry
of the moving sky,
caught in still waters.

Someone I have been,
and someone
I am just,
about to become,
something I am
and will be forever,
the sheer generosity
of being loved
through loving:
the miracle reflection
of a twice blessed life.
---------------- David Whyte (1955- ), Anglo Irish poet and philosopher, from The Bell and the Blackbird, 2019.


Proverb:
“It is good to praise the LORD
to sing praises to your name, O Most High,
the declare your steadfast love in the morning
and your faithfulness by night,
to the music of jthe lute and jthe harp,
to the melody of jthe lyre.
For you, O Lord, have made me glad by your work;
at the works of your hands I sing for joy.
-----------Psalm 92:1-4



Painting: Healthcare Hero, Austin Fowler, Denver 2020

     


Prayer: Prayer of St. Boniface
Eternal God, the refuge and help of all your children,
we praise you for all you have given us,
for all you have done for us,
for all that you are to us.
In our weakness, you are strength,
in our darkness, you are light,
in our sorrow, you are comfort and peace.
We cannot number your blessings,
we cannot declare your love:
For all your blessings we bless you.
May we live as in your presence,
and love the things that you love,
and serve you in our daily lives;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
---------------- St. Boniface (ca. 672-754)

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 13: Monday after the 2nd Sunday in Lent,

Today’s Theme: Known and Loved By God


Poem: Where Will I Find You
Where, Lord, will I find you:
your place is high and obscured.
         And where
                  won’t I find you:
         your glory fills the world.
You dwell deep within—
         you’ve fixed the ends of creation.
You stand, a tower for the near,
         refuge to those far off.

You’ve lain above the Ark, here,
         yet live in the highest heavens.
         Exalted among your hosts,
         although beyond their hymns—
         no heavenly sphere
                  could ever contain you,

         let alone a chamber within.

In being borne above them
         on an exalted throne,
you are closer to them
         than their breath and skin.
Their mouths bear witness for them,
         that you alone gave them form.
         Your kingdom’s burden is theirs;
         who wouldn’t fear you?
                  And who could fail

                           to search for you—

         who sends down food when it is due?

I sought your nearness.
         With all my heart I called you.
And in my going out to meet you,
         I found you coming toward me,
as in the wonders of your might
         and holy works I saw you.
         Who would say he hasn’t seen
         your glory as the heavens’
                  hordes declare

                           their awe of you

         without a sound being heard?

But could the Lord, in truth,
         dwell in men on earth?
How would men you made
         from the dust and clay
fathom your presence there,
         enthroned upon their praise?
         The creatures hovering over
         the world praise your wonders—
                  your throne borne high

                           above their heads,

         as you bear all forever.
----------- Yehuda Halevi (1075-1141), one of the greatest Jewish poets, translated by Peter Cole



Proverb:
“Every time you listen with great attentiveness to the voice that calls you the Beloved, you will discover within yourself a desire to hear that voice longer and more deeply. It is like discovering a well in the desert.”—-------------Henri Nouwen (1932-1996) Dutch-Canadian Catholic priest, theologian, and author


Painting: The Hand of God, Nada Sarkis, Syrian icon, 2018 (written during time of current war)

     

Prayer: Inspired by Psalms 138-139
O God,
you are our safe harbor; our shelter and our keeper:
     we lay open our hearts before your throne.

Before I yet breathed
you knew me and had me
     within the bowl of your mercy:
in you, O God, do I trust,
for you are ever with me
in rejoicing or in travail—
     in trouble or tempest you remain steadfast.
In sundering sea or thundering wave,
you steady me and strengthen me by your grace.

With the eyes of our hearts
may we see your imprint in the world around us,
O Redeemer and Lover of Our Souls,
that we may tell out your goodness in the world
     in all we do or say.

Cast the mantle of your presence, Lord Christ,
over all those who call upon you for help,
especially those for whom we pray.
Amen.
-----------Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey-- Day 12: 2nd Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: The Commonwealth of God


Poem: Heaven in Ordinary
Because high heaven made itself so low
That I might glimpse it through a stable door,
Or hear it bless me through a hammer blow,
And call me through the voices of the poor,
Unbidden now, its hidden light breaks through
Amidst the clutter of the every day,
Illuminating things I thought I knew,
Whose dark glass brightens, even as I pray.

Then this world's walls no longer stay my eyes,
A veil is lifted likewise from my heart,
The moment holds me in its strange surprise,
The gates of paradise are drawn apart,
I see his tree, with blossom on its bough,
And nothing can be ordinary now.
-------------Malcolm Guite (1957- ), English priest, theologian, musician, and poet


Proverb:
“But our commonwealth is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
----------Philippians 3:20, from today’s epistle


Painting: Detail from Tapestry of Saints, John Nava, Cathedral of Our Lady, Los Angeles

     


Prayer:
Loving One, who broods over us as a mother hen,
we ask that your commonwealth come on Earth,
and peace and equity reign throughout this land
and all lands.

Help us to never surrender to contempt,
but instead to believe
that we can choose good over evil,
that we can deny the power
of resentment, division, and indifference.

Help us to lay willing hands to the plow of justice
as we seek to turn the soil of suffering
into a field of hope.

Help us to plant seeds of compassion with each step,
and make our hearts the fertile ground
to bring the common good to life.

Help us to tend the tender shoots of faith
in You and in each other, Beloved Savior,
to create a verdant field of witness
to the love we bear each other without distinction.

Merciful God, lift up those who struggle,
comfort those who mourn,
soothe those who are anxious,

gathered under your mothering wings.
Amen.
------------------ Leslie Barnes Scoopmire

A Poem, A Proverb, A Painting, A Prayer: A Lenten Journey--- Day 11: Saturday after the 1st Sunday in Lent

Today’s Theme: Security in the Storm
(Note: Today’s devotional was created after six tornadoes and high wings traveled through the state from a massive storm causing multiple deaths, injuries, and damages)



Poem: The Storm-Struck Tree
As the storm-struck oak leaned closer to the house —
The remaining six-story half of the tree listing toward the glass box
Of  the kitchen like someone in the first tilt of stumbling —
The other half crashed into the neighbors’ yards, a massive
Diagonal for which we had no visual cue save for
An antler dropped by a constellation —
As the ragged half   leaned nearer, the second storm of cloying snow
Began pulling on the shocked, still-looming splitting, and its branches dragged
Lower like ripped hems it was tripping over
Until they rustled on the roof under which I
Quickly made dinner, each noise a threat from a body under which we so recently
Said, Thank goodness for our tree, how it has accompanied us all these years,
Thank goodness for its recitation of the seasons out our windows and over
The little lot of our yard, thank goodness for the birdsong and 
squirrel games
Which keep us from living alone, and for its proffered shade, the crack of the bat
Resounding through September when its dime-sized acorns
Land on the tin awning next door. Have
Mercy on us, you, the massively beautiful, now ravaged and charged
With destruction.
We did speak like that. As if from a book of psalms
Because it took up the sky
------Jessica Greenbaum (1957- ), teacher, social worker, and poet


Proverb:
Those who dwell in the shelter of the Most High
    will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
They will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”
-------------Psalm 91:1-2



Painting: Lightning Dance, Clyde Aspevig (1951- ), Colorado- based landscape painter

Prayer: In the Midst of the Storm
Let us raise our hearts to our Creator,
who is making the heavens and the Earth.
Let us sing praise to our Savior,
whose mercy endures forever,
and sustains the weary with unfailing compassion.

Your creating energy, O God, is awesome in its power:
we worship You and give you glory!
God is our refuge and our shelter,
our steadfast companion in times of trouble or danger.
We turn to you in trust, Holy One,
for You abide with us even in the midst of the storm.
Place your hand of protection
over all who are in danger,
over all who seek the lost or injured,
we humbly pray.

Guide the hands and the hearts
of doctors, nurses, and first responders,
of clergy and chaplains,
as they seek to comfort and heal the injured and the traumatized.

Blessed Jesus, you know our cares and concerns:
gather under your sheltering wing
all those for whom we pray.
Amen.
-------------Leslie Barnes Scoopmire