Lenten Writing Project Reboot 2020! Writers' Reflections in the Wilderness of Lent
Words of Faith
Spirit to Spirit Writing Project
The word Lent comes from an old English word meaning lengthening of days. In Christianity, it refers to the time before Easter, traditionally observed through repentance and learning. It's a season to be intentional about changing and growing. Some people give up items to create space and time for new life and habits to grow. Instead of giving something up, I invite you to try to commit to answering these writing prompts each of the 40 days of Lent. The discipline it takes to set aside time each day to reflect and write about God and your relationship with spirituality is a journey that you will emerge from with a renewed spirit. Every writer has their own special voice to add to this project, whether poetry, prose, essay, thoughts, lists, or through comments, prayer, and encouragement.
How do I participate?
Each day, a writing prompt will be posted. A prompt is a question or statement that is meant to inspire your thoughts in whatever genre you feel moved to write. Post your reflections as a comment under each day's prompt (for further instructions, see 'How To Post' on the right side of the page). It is up to you if you write, read, or pray along with us each of the 40 days of Lent or just drop in from time to time when the spirit moves you to participate. Writing regularly is a discipline that many writers struggle with and this is a way to involve that discipline as a Lenten practice. Through writing and leaving encouraging words for others in this project, we become a supportive spiritual writing community
“Herbie”
ReplyDeleteLife had moved with a disjointed gate.
His twelve year old hormones raged.
Flannel shirts, pocket protectors, crew-cut pate,
New school, again, find new friends, challenge waged.
This new school, one campus for twelve grades,
Not large, a rural student clientele filled up halls,
Buses transported most students safely, no switch-blades.
Newcomers, a minority, made their way within the walls.
Playground pecking order established with brutal force.
Older students seeking targets amongst the young.
Swaggering toughs, young bulls in the herd, set the course.
Scope-out susceptible, nickname them, knock them down a rung.
“Hey, Herbie, don’t you know how to dress?”
“Your mom’s got no clue what looks best!”
“Those glasses of yours, ugly, tell me true, confess.”
“Don’t play silent with me. I’ll beat you so you can’t rest.”
All fall, recesses, the worst time of the day.
Herbie, his stalker, punched shoulders, stabbing pain.
Bus rides went fine, once they got on their way.
Getting safely through the hazing, against fear, disdain.
Fall ticked by, few friends gathered ‘round to ease the struggle.
Herbie kept the situation to himself, didn’t parents involve.
Shoulder muscles aching, prayers for peace, into sleep he’d snuggle.
His nemesis would persecute him, scenario did devolve.
Boy’s intermural basketball teams were posted.
Herbie’s parents encouraged him to give it a try.
Organized by neighborhoods, family cars each team hosted.
Twice a week practices required each team to comply.
Suddenly, the antagonists were reframed, same team.
To win they would have to share the ball on the court.
They learned to encourage each other, drive the seam.
Nickname “Herbie” evaporated, the hateful season, short.
The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.
17.3.13