When you’re young,
and your heart falls for that special one,
you daydream about them, don’t you?
You notice them out of the whole crowd.
You watch, you know their routine.
You plant yourself, casually as you can
right where you know they come out of class,
or go to work, right up that sidewalk
as they come the other way—
you do it more than once—
so you can just happen to bump into them,
even for a fleeting conversation,
and maybe more, oh you hope,
a little more.

So the Beloved haunts your ways,
hoping for a brief encounter,
hoping, oh, hoping
for maybe a little more.

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

           Repent, for the realm of heaven has come near.
                           —Matthew 4.17


Trade in your whole mind for a new one,
your eyes for a different set.

The world is a thin place. Step over the boundary
between seen and unseen—so near, so near.

Magnetic fields whorl about us,
dancing in a galactic web.

In your gut your microbiome flourishes,
a communion of saints within you.

In every leaf and bug the infinite stirs,
the immanent looms.

In every morning, every street corner,
every slant of sun, grace thrums.

In every moment, every place,
love sings, its gravity unfailing.

In every word, every cup of tea,
the Beloved impends.

Our formulas, decrees, price tags—
all snake oil.

The surface of things is the other world.
Beneath is this one.

The music—
do you hear it?

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

The wind blows whitecaps on the river,
as if to shove the whole thing upstream.

It’s unrelenting, the pressure
to go that way.

You can hardly think for yourself
with all the news of what you need to do,

directions up so many streets,
a different wind on every street.

But beneath the wind the river, unmistaken,
flows to the sea.

Listen deep, beneath the playlist,
the parade drums, the spangled desperations:

the serene “follow me” of love, silent,
already in you, drawn, flowing.

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

The bee needs the flower,
the flower needs the bee.

Sometimes a child just needs his mother to hold him.
Sometimes a mother just needs to hold her child.

Sometimes we need to be held.
Sometimes God needs to hold us.

The pleading is quiet, but deeper than time—
the ache, the space in her open arms.

The fragrance of the flower,
the restlessness within, God’s longing.

What a gift, that the flower opens and waits,
the child rests in the mother’s arms.

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

God of love and justice,
I praise you for the wonder and beauty
of the diversity of the human family.
And I confess my fear of the gift,
my buried, subtle bias against people of color,
my preference for what is white and familiar.
I confess all my sin, including racism.
I confess my silence in the face of injustice.
Forgive my sin, and transform it.
Heal my fear, and open my eyes.
Give me humility to admit when I am biased,
and honesty to be a learner
when I’m not sure what to do or say.
Help me be aware of my privilege
and steward it with humility and compassion.
Give me courage to take risks,
to bear witness, to speak out against injustice.
God, grant me the joy of living in harmony with Christ,
by the grace of your Holy Spirit. Amen

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

Renounce
and enjoy.

Give
and receive.

Journey inward,
journey outward.

Know you are one with all things,
and keep good boundaries.

Give yourself,
and take care of yourself.

How you do what you do matters.
And it’s not about you.

Sing the song.
Be still.

You are part of God.
You are not God.

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

           They said, “Where are you staying?”
           He said, “Come and see.”
                           —John 1.38-39


Keep seeking, and remember:
it is not enough to know.
Come and see.

Open your other eye.
Enter in, sink deep,
attend, as if being caressed.

Come like a bee to a flower,
see like darkness sees light,
listen like the sea listens to a river.

Ice on the bridge.
A child’s silence.
A deep sigh in the ICU.

The smallest act of forgiveness.
Listening to someone
like the earth listens to a seed.

A wound that hurts and also
knows how to heal.
The sound of earth breathing.

Unearned hope, unjustified joy.
The thread in you that reaches out
to the stranger, the bird, the dream.

The holy of holies is vacated.
Where is the Beloved now?
Everywhere else.

Come and see.
Come closer.
See.

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

           “What are you looking for?”
                           —John 1.38

A nuthatch works its way down the trunk.
A seagull angles across the wind,
looks left and right, left again.
People click through channels, scroll on phones.
Too warm in January: already
green spikes come up through the earth.
The river noses its way through the marsh.
People walk, bundled, one or two at a time,
down to the end of the road, and back.
A bar-tailed godwit flew 11 days straight,
Alaska to Tasmania. 750 miles a day.
The highways are crammed.

What are we looking for?
Life, maybe. Home.

Never stop asking.

How often do we forget?
On the way to the ocean
you find a dime, and turn around.
What are we looking for?

Maybe not what at all.
Maybe

Who.

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

           “Here is the Lamb of God
           who takes away the sin of the world!”
                           —John 1.29

Not a sacrificial lamb,
killed to appease a demanding god,
but a divine shepherd turned sheep,
to be one of us,
vulnerable, mortal, fearful, divine,
who knows abandonment and loneliness,
who knows what it is to not know—
erasing all distance between us and God,
negating all separation:
taking away the sin of the world.

Lamb of God, Gentle One,
O lowly creature,
O Slaughterable Lover,
walk with us in your tender risk.
Offer us your fragile flesh and blood.
Stay with us,
and take away our isolation.
You, our Isaac whom we will sacrifice,
stay with us, Love of God,
precious Lamb.

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

On the black still pond
big flakes drift down.
In the water
their reflections rush up
to meet them
perfectly at the surface,
a black garden of white stars
shooting upward.

Our little prayers rise up
to meet the great ones
that have descended
so far to us.

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