Days are longer now,
birds sing sweetly,
daffodils sway brightly,
and a storm dumps four inches of snow
and a tree on our house.
On the road
the sun on the deadly ice is brilliant.

Life mixes its metaphors.
Besides the snow in the driveway
I also need to shovel off
my notions of what ought to be.

On lovely spring days there are pallbearers,
and blessings in my failures.
Life is not under my management.
It is free, and dappled, not pure.

Life is this, not something else.
Pay attention.
Even God does not yet know
what’s in store before unfolding in it.
I release my designs
and receive this day as it is.
It will be holy enough.

______________________
Weather Report

A high pressure region evaporates forecasts
today and into tomorrow,
each moment unfolding
as it does, without label or category.
Expect the strong front of the present moment
to disregard our expectations
and develop into what it does.
The afternoon commute
will be one. You will arrive.
 

My eyes be yours,
that I see what is before me,
and the glory there.

My feet be yours,
that I trust this earth that holds me,
and find a path.

My ears be yours,
that I listen deeply to each one,
and hear you singing.

My hands be yours,
that giving or receiving, working or resting,
they hold you.

My breathing be yours,
that your infinite mercy
unfold in me.

My heart be yours,
that I laugh freely in joy
that is not mine alone.

My unknowing be yours,
for in this loving mystery
I belong.

 

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
                  
In anxiety,
the doors of your heart are locked.

But they protect inward space.
Open your inner spaciousness
for the Guest.
Don’t worry about your attitude;
just create space in your breathing,
in the actual sensations in your body,
for the Guest to be there.

Welcome him.
Pay attention to him.
Be present to him.
Feel the sensation of his breath in you.

Let him show you his wounds:
your fear, your anger, your shame, your grief.
There is enough love for you to bear it.
Simply let him be there.

Let him speak to you.
Let him set you free.
If you forgive anything, it is forgiven.
If you retain it, it is retained.
You can let the anxieties go.

He breathes his life into you.
Now you can pass through those doors,
at peace.

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Jesus, I confess: at times my doors are locked in fear.

You respect my defenses, yet you step through my fears and come to me.

You grant me your peace. You breathe your spirit into me, a Pentecost, a new birth.

You give me power to forgive, the choice to be free of other’s sins or to stay burdened by them.

You send me, as you are sent, to those who long for you but need to see and touch.

In your Spirit may I meet them as one who has felt the wounds of the world and still stands among them in love.

May Love be my Lord and my God. Give me courage, Jesus, to unlock those doors.

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

         
         “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands,
         and put my finger in the mark of the nails
         and my hand in his side,
         I will not believe.”
                  —John 20.25

It’s not that I don’t believe,
it’s just that I don’t feel you,
solid, right here,
and sometimes, Lord, I need to.
I need you more than I have you.
I don’t hear your voice,
calm and clear and sweet in my ear
like some people do,
and I want to.
I know you are here,
but I want to feel you.
Forgive my neediness—
but Beloved, come to me.

You give me this grace,
that faith is not certainty
but turning toward you.

You teach me to hear you
in the silence within,
to see you where I do see you,
to feel your wounds
in the wounds of the world.

So I reach out my hand.

I reach out my hand.

I reach out my hand.

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

         
         

         
For the dullness that encloses me I pray
your grace burn off the morning fog.

That the dream of doubt I wear like clothes
I pray may in your light dissolve, and fall away.

For healing of the wound that is a world that is a wall
between me and your delight, and mine, I pray.

From the coma of my fears awaken me
with your warming, seeing sun.

For my eyes, sleep-sealed and glazed, I pray
to see the nub and fullness of what is.

From the soft bed of my grave
raise me into this day amazed and new.

         
         

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail
write to me at unfoldinglight (at)gmail.com

         

         Why do you seek the living
         among the dead?                  
                  —Luke 24.5

Easter God,
roll away the stone
from the tomb of my heart.

Let the morning light
of your love
shine in.

As light forgives darkness,
fills it,
transforms it,

your love forgives me,
fills me,
transforms me.

I am not among the dead—
my guilt, my shame, my fear.
You have brought me to life.

The light of your love raises me,
sets me free,
leads me out into this new day,

beloved,
living,
made new.

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Sometimes it happens that Good Friday
falls on the twenty-fifth of March,
for literalists who count such things,
nine months before Jesus’ birth:
the day Mary supposedly conceived.
This day of death and our great No
is the very day of Gabriel’s promise
and Mary’s great Yes. The very day.

You come among us,
knowing.

Even as we fall away
you fall into us.

Even deep in our fear and rage
your seed opens.

You bless our failure,
make death into life,

our unsteady hearts
worthy.

What is love
but your grace in our weakness?

In the darkness
light shines.

Love
and the cost of love,
both kinds of tears
fall mingled.

 

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
He’s on his knees,
not all pious like the paintings
but on his hands and knees
trying to breathe,
forehead in the dirt,
unraveled
by the cup that won’t pass from him.

No one loves life more,
has faced death down and won,
has pulled people back from the dark
like he has. But now?

What changes?
What makes him take the cup?
A voice in the garden isn’t enough.

He prays over his death,
the cup of his life poured out in love,
all of it,
he prays for his life,
prays for the love that is his life,
and finds himself praying
for the people he loves.
And it is they who change him.

By the end
he is not praying for release.
He is praying for us.

It is you
who makes him know
that this is worth it.

He stands and turns.

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com

         
         
Yes

I stretch out
my arms

and bear
your cross

Your fear
that wells up and overflows

your sorrow
that haunts

the most awful pain
you endure

and you cause
I embrace

I gather into myself
with open arms

to swallow it
in love

I drown your No in my Yes
to a deeper Yes

The grave itself I smother
in love

until there is
nothing left

but Yes
and still

even later and always
my open arms

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

To receive Unfolding Light as a daily e-mail,
write to me at unfoldinglight(at) gmail.com