Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

What reptile robbed the nest of me,
what godlike voice so unlike God said not
to call myself holy,
to know myself home?
What crafty serpent convinced me not
to know myself beautiful,
to trust myself beloved,
to feel myself enough?

A worse refusal than of my sin
is my sin itself, that cloaks the luminous.
I renounce the devil and all his ways,
his lies about what I’m not.

I can learn the poem of myself
even if its meaning escapes me,
being in a foreign language,
and chant its beauty in crowded streets.

On the long road home
through the desert of denial,
the wilderness of not seeing, not trusting,
the narrow path through the old ruins,
a great bird has flown up from me,
and leads the way.

 

 

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

         
         
O Prodigal God, wastefully loving,
recklessly extravagant with grace,
excessively generous with forgiveness,
liberal with tender mercy and compassion,
lavish with hope and delight:
you shower us with love
that we are not prepared to receive.
You know the hurt beneath our fleeing,
the fear enclosed in our anger
and our clutching of what is deserved.
You embrace us freely and passionately,
free from our past, knowing and healing our pain,
in the present moment, celebrating.

You have recklessly given us your love:
may we spread it wantonly, give it all away,
spend it on the unlovely, waste it on the unworthy.
May we set aside our pride and practice delight.
May we claim again the siblings we have spurned,
and gladly celebrate those we have excluded.
May we offer hospitality to the unlovely,
forgive where it is unwarranted,
and love when it is unreasonable.

In your love may we love lavishly,
without exception or measurement.
Yes, it will break our hearts;
we shall be taken advantage of, and worse—
we shall be crucified, and only your love will remain.
And then for us, who have died and are alive again
you will give a great feast.
By your grace may this life be a reunion,
a celebration, a resurrection,
that in prodigal love we may know your joy,
your giving, dancing, feasting, running, embracing joy.

__________________
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

         “My child, you are always with me,         and all that is mine is yours.
         Now we have to celebrate and rejoice,
         because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life;
         he was lost and has been found.”
                  —Luke 15.31-32

My child,
do you know how much I love you?

I give you everything,
all that I have, all Creation.
It breaks my heart
when you turn away—
how many times a day?—
but I love you,
and I will give myself to you.
Come to me.

You may go to a far land or out into the field;
however far off you are I will see you.
I will come to you, shaking with love.
I will leave the party to come to you.
I will hike my robe up around my knees,
running foolishly, to come to you.
Do you know how I weep with joy?
Come home.

Rebellious or obedient, you are my Beloved.
I will silence your speech about just desserts.
I will ignore the wise advisors,
foolishly, extravagantly, over and over
I will offer you my best.
I will give you myself.
Come in.

Though you have turned from your brother
I will give you back to each other.
You who are dead to one another I will restore.
I will give you back your family.
I will bring you back to life,
give you back to myself.

When you break my heart again
I will still love you, still give you myself,
again and again forever, for the sake of love.
Come in,
for our sake.

__________________
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

          “Father, for all these years I have been working like a slave for you,          
         and I have never disobeyed your command;          
         yet you have never given me even a young goat          
         so that I might celebrate with my friends.          
         But when this son of yours came back,          
         who has devoured your property with prostitutes,          
         you killed the fatted calf for him!”
                  —Luke 15.29-30

I am older now.
I have done my running and returning.
Or never did, and regret it.

I ran without leaving,
and without returning.

Like my younger self
I have not sought you—
just your providence.
Like him I have not been a son to you
but a slave.
Like him I profess
why I should not come in to your house.

Forgive my self-righteous prayer.
Forgive me that I obeyed but did not love.
Forgive my belief in deserving—
both his and mine.
Forgive my leaving
for the far country of my anger.

Forgive my disinterest
in what pain made him flee,
what he suffered, what he learned,
what made him return.
Forgive me that I can’t yet say
that I missed him,
that I was afraid to be afraid for him.

Forgive my refusal to be kin
of those who seek, who wander,
who do not enslave themselves like I.
Forgive my envy of those
who receive you so easily,
my resentment of those who are forgiven.

Forgive me, and give me grace
to forgive him, to forgive you,
and grace even deeper to forgive
myself in my self-enclosure.
Defy my pious rant,
and bring me in to the party.
Make me your son after all,
for no reason but love.
Make me his brother,
for our sake.

__________________
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.
         
         There was a man who had two sons.
         The younger of them said to his father,
         “Father, give me the share of the property
         that will belong to me.” So he divided his property…
                  —Luke 15.11-12

Beloved, I ask for blessing,
for good things,
but not for you.

Desperate, in a “far land,”
apart from you,
my mind wanders, forgetting.
My heart wanders, hungry.
I am not evil; I am lost.
Where do I cry this loneliness?

Coming to myself—
befriending my soul,
becoming myself—
I belong to you.

I come back—
still asking not for you,
but for forgiveness,
for myself.

You wrap me in a robe of generosity
and still I have yet to find
language to thank you,
to love you, to want you.

I am still coming to the party,
still lost, still coming home,
to love you,
for our sake.

 

 

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.
         
         
Ice on the lake,
wind in the trees.
Wind with winter’s muscle
but oddly warm, this early.

In the circle people wrestle with angels:
am ill-fitting religion,
the scar of abuse,
a shade that still stalks in the heart.
A fear, a wound, a distance,
a heart seized up but willing,
a longing finally named.

A warm wind blows through the room,
a book with a promise uncovered
like a secret pried from under the floorboards.
Why has no one ever told them this?

The ice gives.
Under the wind’s steady breath
the ice of a whole lake
splits and shifts and shatters,
piling on the shore.
Open water,
and in the little bays
a million crystal chimes
ring with joy,
even in February,
with storms yet to come,
singing praise.

+
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.
         
         
                  
When we come forward
for this little morsel of bread
we are only pretending
to be hungry,

for there are no words,
no knowledge, no inkling
of how hungry
we really are.

         
         
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.
         
         The owner said, “I look for fruit on this fig tree,
                  and I find none. Cut it down!”
         The gardener replied, “Let it alone for one more year,
                  until I dig around it and put manure on it….”
                           —Luke 13.6-8

What if the task before you
is not to mine some vein of regret,
not to subtract or amputate,
not to punish yourself
or squeeze yourself into a shape

but to allow a gentle gardener
to dig around your roots,
to gift you with manure,
to trust in fruits
you don’t yourself yet see,
to wait for hidden beauty
to emerge, grace
that is already there
to flower?

Can you leave your fear of the axe?
Can you let go long enough
to imagine blossoms?
Can you bless your blest, bare branches?
Can you let the gardener dig?

Can you hold still?

+
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.
         
         The stone the builders rejected
                  has become the cornerstone.
                           —Mark 12.10

Close your eyes to the earth you walk on.
Disregard the humming beneath you.
Do not look at that moon, unfailing.
It will help to find reason to fault.

Pay no attention to the magnificence
in the laborer on the street, the divine
glory pounded into the silver bowl of him.
Practice condescension, then oblivion.

Veil your fear of the divine approach,
your terror at heaven’s abject humility,
in simple disdain, pleasant obsession
with the addictive veneer.

Look away from the holy in that tree,
the man hanging there—so marred
is his appearance—no, only the calm
wheels of deserving, and our smart outfits.

The Beloved’s kiss, the hand that saves you
wrap themselves in the contemptible,
in the despised and condemned.
Blessed are the pure in heart.

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

         

         
God help me to see myself truly
with your eyes of love.

                  •

Let me see all in me that is of love,
and give thanks.

                  •

Let me see all in me that is not of love,
and allow you to heal it.

                  •

I trust your complete forgiveness,
your perfect grace.

                  •

God of love,
perfect your love in me.

Amen.

__________________
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