Ah, Jesus, I have mastered you.
Savior unneeded, I am your lord.
I have cut you into pieces and eaten you,
I have stolen everything from you
and sold it cheap,
I have picked all your fruit
and thrown it to passing animals.

           My victory has killed me.

Unassisted
my mastery has rendered me powerless,
my palace emptied,
I’ve been thrown on the compost,
eaten alive,
gone down with you
into the dark grave,

where finally,
bettered by death,
I am still.

I’ve eaten your flesh,
           you invade me,
                       and I live.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 23, 2021

The snow fits its shell onto the earth,
lovingly lays its attentive skintight bands
like burial cloth, cloaked, wound tight,
like the women tending their beloved,
with more than ample fabric
over the flesh of the earth, each shape,
every curve, every wound and hollow,
each breast and shoulder, thigh and brow,
fitted to its grave, held in stillness,
iced in for the long silence, the practice
once again of death by drowning,
all this water frozen over it, slowly
seeping in, penetrating, hard and fast,
and the earth beneath, the buried streams,
the silent roots, the unborn seeds whispering
Yes, yes.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 22, 2021

        And the Spirit immediately drove him
          out into the wilderness.
                    —Mark 1.12

With him
you are within him.
The world recedes,
the ungenerous stones, the fatal cliffs,
the worlds vanishing from your grasp.
The wilderness is himself,
pure presence free of outcome,
your being
graciously granted,
a given stillness
in which
your temptation becomes clarity,
your fear serene,
your solitude holy,
your belonging assured,
and your desiring becomes song.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 18, 2021

I ponder at my grave,
myself beneath it, dust, hidden bones,
a mystery emptied of any self,
indistinguishable
from an ancient Viking fisherman
or Neanderthal relic,
long gone but for trinkets
and orphaned memories.
What I did echoes unseen;
who I was reverberates silently.
Now there is only dirt. Lungs of dirt,
where once the Divine breathed the spark.
Inside my skull, where the flame
of my thoughts and loves used to burn,
dark clay. Mere soil. The candle is all gone.
Once, there was flesh, then there was dust.
Stuff, then fire, then a different kind of stuff.
Only the ashes will last.

Be the fire.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 17, 2021

         Create in me a beautiful heart, O God,
              and put a new and faithful spirit within me.
                                          —Psalm 51.10

Take all of who I am,
the me-ness of me,
what makes me who I am,
the special, the unique,
the brilliant and the unpardonable,
all I’m so proud of, and so ashamed,
that I’ve worked so hard to fashion,
that I’m still working on,
what I can’t part with
because there wouldn’t be
anything left of me—
take it.

Take it.
I lay it in your hands.
Gather it into yourself,
into your dark, generous mystery,
and in the flame of your creating heart
burn it.

Then into the dust and ashes
breathe your breath,

and with gratitude
I will receive
who rises

when in your grace
you give me
me
anew.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 16, 2021

You stand at the sea
and your heart widens
to join it.

Watching a toddler
negotiate a snowy sidewalk
your spirit is a ballerina.

Between buildings
the evening sun, unexpected,
awakens something.

You marvel at your body,
imperfect, fragile,
still here, giving thanks.

A gift is doubled in value
because no one knows
it was you.

The secret blossoming
of wonder and gratitude
creates beauty.

Even merely notice a cloud
and the Beloved
is secretly delighted.

               Give your alms in secret.
                               —Matthew 6.4

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 15, 2021

                  Woe to me if I do not proclaim the gospel!
                                               —1 Corinthians 9.16

A baker’s kitchen
gives off a lovely aroma.

Miracles have occurred
in you, for you, for the world,

unearned healings,
revelations, liberations,

an embrace, deep in,
from heaven itself.

The story isn’t yours, it’s God’s.
Tell it.

God’s child is conceived in you.
Give it birth.

Glory shines in you.
Share the light.

You don’t have to preach.
Just be transparent to the mystery.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 12, 2021

Those who wait for the Holy One shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.
—Isaiah 40.31

You who stagger, who are weary,
who bend under the weight, unable;
you who despair,
who tread a path of duty but not hope;
you who put your head down and go
and don’t let up for fear you’ll quit forever—

you can stop. Rest.
For indeed: this job, you cannot do.
This weight, you can’t carry.
This journey, you can’t finish.
Not alone. Give it up.

Breathe in and out.
The breath is not yours. It’s a gift.
In your weakness lighten your load.
Set it all down.

Now, know this: it is God, not you
who lifts you up on eagles’ wings,
who is your strength and your courage,
your vision, your hope and your joy.

Give up trying to fly.
Let the Mighty One lift you up.
What God wants to do in you
God will do, and let go the rest.
Let God’s hope be yours.
Let the Creator be your energy,
the love of God your sustenance,
the Spirit your stamina.

God will rise up,
and you, beloved siblings,
will rise on God’s wings,
run on Christ’s feet.
God breathes in you.
With that breath,
that breath,
rise, and go on.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 11, 2021

Jesus stretched out his hand
and touched him, and said to him,
“Be made clean!”
Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean.
—Mark 1.41-42

You know what it is to feel dirty.
Not just having erred,
but being smeared,

a shame that lingers,
sticks and stinks,
stained as an ill-scrubbed pot,

the feeling you may be excused
but never adored,
allowed but not admired.

Until the Beloved touches you:
no mere glancing touch
but a stretching out, a desire for you,

embracing your stain,
enfolding you in glory
so you shine.

You shine,
a polished mirror
in whom God sees delight.

Was this a miracle,
or maybe did the dirt
never exist at all?

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 9, 2021

             …exercise self-control…
                               —1 Corinthians 9.25

If I ever have another dog
I will name it Ego.

Keep it on a short leash.
Teach it to sit. Stay.

Not to bark at strangers,
chase every squirrel.

Train it to obey, not react,
out of loyalty, not hunger,

how not to jump in the fray,
add to the noise.

Not to mirror another’s energy,
but hold its own.

Teach it the patient wait,
the watching eye,

to be the gentle guide,
not the leash-jerker.

Well, I’ll not have another dog,
but I do have a critter within,

that I’m learning to teach.
Good boy. Good boy.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net

February 10, 2021