Soft Sunday Stillness.
Shrillness of the mid-week race
Shushed by calming sunshine
That illuminates and absorbs
Steam of ginger tea from porcelain cup.
Makes room for Holiness
In this moment where I can ponder Grace,
Submerge my spirit, and steep in this His Sea of Great Love,
Whose generous depths cannot be plumbed,
Where reviving waters wash the grime of guilt
And crust of selfishness away.
Grace, a gift,
By its very nature
Breathed on us, His Charis-favor,
We rejoice in the overflowing fullness of His gift.
Favor bestowed so liberally from
The Giver’s store of love.
Let me carry this holy water with me.
I bring this cracked cup of my life
To fill as you provide,
That I may serve it up to others
Who weary of the struggle and of self.
Revive us Lord,
With your redemption that renews.
And like the wine at the Cana wedding,
The fish and bread on Judean hillside,
The oil for the widow and her sons,
Make it last.
Multiply its provision,
May I faithful with its contents be.
Prone to be tightfisted,
I hoard and measure carefully,
As if its mine to give.
Let your mercy-love spill over the rim,
Seep through the cracks,
As you will, where you will, and when.
kpeterson february 2013