Enthusiastically, DawnPause, Hands, Journal
The Saturday between, we wait. The Saturday that stands between living, dying, life, breath. The brink of everything is where the waiting brings us. Sometimes it seems all of life is a waiting room. But, then Sunday swoops in like Superman, and especially this Sunday. The Sunday we celebrate again and again, until the day our hope is fulfilled. Waiting is never for nothing. So we wait, and the clock ticks, life unfolds, and our lives unfurl like the lilies and daffodils of Easter, there beauty reminds us – of our own lives- mist.
Today, I have two precious gifts to offer. One is a poem, the other a Pause. Literally. And one small confession in the waiting.
The poem I share with you today as I continue in my personal journey of celebrating National Poetry Month, is a poem I wrote which was published in the 2023 issue of Crosswinds Poetry Journal (Volume IX). Sadly, this excellent lit journal is no longer operational, but I am grateful they published this tender poem when they did. This poem also happens to be included in a manuscript of poems I have been working on since the same year. It is a collection which focuses on living in the light of intense and sudden loss. It is a poetic memoir, a grasping for God in the midst of pain, and the sudden realization, that comes with the shock of loss- this is not what was expected. You are not the God I thought You were. I picture the disciples in the in between, in all their individual “waiting rooms”. How God meets us, each one, in our aloneness. In our suffering…He has suffered all of it.
In light of the holy waiting we do on our journey from the cross to the resurrection we long for, I thought this would be a good weekend to share this poem. And my confession if you did not pick up on it. The manuscript is in a period of incubation. I don’t know when it will see the light of day. But it too waits with me as I continue to revise and seek its fulfillment, its “right” time.
Hands
I see you still standing at the counter,
methodically making your morning latte,
it was then I first noticed how badly
your hands were shaking
when I could see your junior-mint eyes
and shape of your pink lips
when I could touch your tousled, long curls
and brush the backs of my fingers
against your soft cheeks
it was then, I could believe
there was a reason for everything,
and hope wasn’t unfamiliar or far away
but tangible like soap in the hands
lathering clean the dirt
hands rubbing together, eyes watching
as sudsy water slips down the drain,
bubbly, grey then white and soon clear
always the clean fresh start.
I wish it could be that way again,
I wish I could steady once more
your trembling hands.
###
Now we pause. And my parting gift for you today is a borrowed journal prompt, from a wonderful book called Pause – Spending Lent with the Psalms by Elizabeth F. Caldwell. This is an excellent resource for your next year’s Lenten journey. I would love to use this with a small group in the future. This year I used it for my own edification. It takes a Psalm for each week over the 40 days of Lent, and combines it with reflective study, meditation and a complimentary spiritual practice. There is a Leader’s Guide, but I did not but peruse it briefly for this read. I also discovered there were videos for each of the chapters/weeks on YouTube – after the fact! So I would definitely recommend and prayerfully consider partnering up next year for this study with others! I am sharing the link (I am not compensated or anything but just have loved this and think others need to know!) You can check out all of the details and resources HERE.
The last chapter and Reflection in the book offers this beautiful gem which I share for you to ponder this weekend. She says that our celebration of Jesus is not the end of our story (this resonates greatly and especially is a focus in my journey (and confessed collection of poems). She goes on to remind us that, “On Easter, we join our hearts in proclaiming the risen Christ whose invitation to live differently awakens us to all the possibilities we have in front of us to use our hands.” Elizabeth remembers the many hands working to keep the churches going throughout the pandemic. The very year my dear daughter died. “So, too, the work of our hands as Easter people continue to be needed in the communities in which we live.” She continues, “We remember and celebrate the risen Christ by seeking those times and places where hands continue his care for the world and all its inhabitants.”
Two of the four reflective (journal prompts) for this chapter were:
- In what ways does your life story reveal God’s presence in your life?
- Where are your hands needed in the work of your church, your community, the world?
Thank you for visiting! I hope you have a blessed and beautiful Easter as you celebrate, discover, rediscover and behold the One who never stops beholding you!
Enthusiastically, Dawn
#books #CrosswindsPoetryJournal #ElizabethFCaldwell #JournalPrompts #Lent #MommyOnlyHas2Hands #Pause #poem #poems #poetry #spiritualPractices #WestminsterJohnKnoxPress #writing
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