Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard,
         anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair.
         Jesus said, “She bought it so that she might keep it
         for the day of my burial.”

                  —John 12. 3,7

The angel of your death
         anoints your feet
                  with fragrant oil
and dries them with her hair.

She loves you, and gives
         the sadness of your dying,
                  the sacredness of your living
back to you.

She alone feels
         your death approaching,
                  knows how precious is your life,
how fleeting.

She gives you,
         before you enter
                  the world’s wound,
her healing balm.

Only thus anointed
         will these feet lead you
                  to stand with those
who suffer.

Befriend your mortality.
         Attend to the hands
                  of death on your feet,
the fragrance of the present.

Always there are the dreams,
         the opportunities, but
                  she awakens you to
this moment.

Welcome her gift,
         the deep desire
                  that in this time
you do what is in you to do.

Let her touch you
         so closely,
                  arouse you to live
while you can.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light

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