Lenten Writing Project Reboot 2020! Writers' Reflections in the Wilderness of Lent
Words of Faith
Spirit to Spirit Writing Project
The word Lentcomes 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
Monday, March 4, 2013
The Story of the Unknown Woman
Write about an unnamed or briefly-mentioned woman character in the Bible. Elaborate on her story, recover the importance of story or even change her story and write about the impact that she had in the Bible. (BTW, March is Women's History Month ; )
Apame, a playful concubine, consort of the king, Caught the attention of Zerubbabel, a young man. In contest for what’s strongest, he, her praises did sing. Aligning her with truths presence did wisdom expand.
Darius, the king, found notes from three aspiring men. Each stating what is strongest in all of creation. One claimed wine, next the king, last truth and women. Among these three, the king chose the third for oblation.
Claiming the reality of woman requires a powerful choice. From their living presence comes the human race. Yet over centuries patriarchy has stifled their voice. We must acknowledge their importance or truth erase.
A delightful woman, Apame, conducted herself with humor. She knew her part in the royal retinue; How to be true. Taking cues from Spirit, she claimed her virtue apart from rumor. Having the kings’ ear she could bring love, justice to all but a few.
Her father, Bartacus, had shown her loving care. Brothers and a sister grew up ‘round an ample table. A man of simple means, he would always truth dare. Life, a gracious Creators’ gift asks of all what they are able.
Young Apame knew of her position in the patriarchal world. With courage she asserted her strength and might. A most appealing banner of feminine power she unfurled. Bringing the king a chance for truth unvarnished to sight.
Hail to thee, young women fair, bring your vision out. Disdain the lessor view culture often asks you to take. Your bodies, your minds, your grace-filled hearts don’t doubt. Creator gifts you into life, bring us truth, don’t forsake.
Subversive texts, these, saved over eons for us to read. Characters real, they remind of our places to accept. No person must be overlooked, denied, in falseness bleed, For Spirit will ever underline truth while power has slept.
In my seminary Christian Scriptures class, we were given a writing assignment that required us to re-write Luke's story of the Prodigal Son, incorporating the mother, who is not originally included. It's a bit too long to post here, so here is a link to it posted on my own blog... it was a really fun assignment! http://contentedlychaotic.blogspot.com/2013/02/luke-1511-31.html
At my previous church a dear woman helped me understand biblical stories from her perspective as a woman. She always cried at our Good Friday service, and I assumed it was because Jesus died. She finally told me, " I feel so bad for Mary who had to watch her son being crucified." I know Mary is a well known woman in the Bible but I was moved by considering Good Friday from a different perspective, and wanted to share it with you.
I've always concentrated on the suffering of Jesus on Good Friday, but of course, Mary's agony must have been intense. As a mother and grandmother, I can't imagine what grief she must have felt in being powerless to stop the torture and death of her beloved son. Now I'll be crying all the harder during the Good Friday service!
In II Timothy Paul mentions he is reminded of Timothy's sincere faith "that first resided in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice." That makes me Timothy's brother! If my mother were to be mentioned in the Bible it certainly would be about her sincere faith. What a blessing for many of us. Some day I will write a piece of prose for her or about her. I written for my grandparents and my father. I don't yet know where to begin. But at this point she is the prose of here own life. Thanks mom.
Marlene, what a wonderful story and really really nicely written! This is a treasure in so many ways. Thank you for sharing! In some ways its a different voice than you normally write too.
It had been a long, tedious day at the market, and she had very little profit to show for it. It started out badly and went to worse and worser. She should have chucked it when the wheel on the cart fell off before she even got down to the road. But no, being the diehard that she was, she bundled up her scarves and packed them onto the donkey along with her daughter. Getting the girl to ride the donkey was in itself a major feat. She had to drape a large cloth over the donkey, taking care that not one bristly hair would touch her daughter’s skin, then coax and bribe her onto the animal. Otherwise, there would be screeches that would set horses and camels into chaotic motion, causing their loads of merchandise to take flight and their owners to burst into barrages of curses and murderous threats.
Since her husband had insisted on taking Yassib along with his older brothers on the fishing boat, there was no one to help keep the girl from causing havoc all day by bouncing into other vendors’ tents, messing up their displays, and grabbing whatever she fancied. In order to keep her and others safe, the woman had to fasten a long rope around the girl’s waist with the other end tied to the tent pole. The girl would, of course, object to her confinement with pitiful cries which painted her mother as a hideous leviathon.
With her attention partially diverted toward keeping her daughter contained and amused, she was not effective at calling customers to look at her wares; and her patience was thin as parchment with those who haggled about prices of the fine woven cloths she had spent hours producing. On the way home, a couple Roman soldiers had mocked her and snatched up one of the scarves that was hanging out of the bundle before riding away laughing.
She felt like twice her age when she finally got home. After laying the half-asleep child down in the house and unloading the donkey, she was about to collapse herself when she noticed a boisterous crowd jamming the road below her house. In the center of the slow-moving mass was a man whose very appearance pulled her deeply buried longings for her daughter into action. People were calling out the name of “Jesus.”
She had heard of this man some said was the Messiah, sent from God to free and restore the nation of Israel. He was even known to speak of God as his father. Indeed, she had lost faith in the gods of her people and had recently asked this invisible Jehovah to forgive any sins of hers that may have been visited upon her daughter and show her daughter merciful deliverance. Suddenly, an inner power propelled her down the path towards the road. She shouted, “Please, Messiah, come heal my daughter!” He seemed to look at her, but turned and continued without acknowledgement, so she followed and continued yelling, “Please, please! I know you can cast out her demon and let her have a normal life.” The men around him shoved her away, but the women left openings for her to get closer. Finally, he stopped and faced her. He said his mission was to not to her people, saying that would be like taking food from the family and feeding it to the dogs. That plucked at her final frayed nerve. She reminded him rather curtly that even the dogs were entitled to some crumbs.
Those around Jesus gasped and glared at her, but he stopped and turned to her with a smile and a look of true compassion. “You are right, my daughter. Your plucky faith is truly greater than many of these.”
He waived his hand upward and then toward the house and said, “It is done.”
Genesis 29:17, “Leah had weak eyes while Rachel was beautiful”
The saga of Jacob working for seven years to claim Rachel as his bride, only to find Leah had been put in her place, is well known. I always felt badly for Jacob that his father-in-law had deceived him. I didn't give Leah much thought.
Not until mid-life when I experienced severe vision-loss with all that entails. The next time I read that story I took another look at Leah.
"Oh Leah" I thought. "I am sorry I didn't appreciate you. You were so accepting, so patient and courageous. I know how you had to work to learn how to do the things that needed to be done. I did too! I know how hard it was to be patient and accepting. I have had to do that too. I can see how much courage you had.
I haven't gotten there yet. But otherwise I have been there! Done that!
I have noticed that other versions of the Bible evade the blunt truth by saying Leah's eyes were 'delicate' or 'tender' or one version even claims Leah’s eyes were 'lovely.' I don't know what scholarly interests were served by these changes but I do believe they take away all that Leah has to teach us.
I prefer the Leah with the 'weak' eyes and strong heart.
Apame
ReplyDelete1 Esdras 4.29
Apame, a playful concubine, consort of the king,
Caught the attention of Zerubbabel, a young man.
In contest for what’s strongest, he, her praises did sing.
Aligning her with truths presence did wisdom expand.
Darius, the king, found notes from three aspiring men.
Each stating what is strongest in all of creation.
One claimed wine, next the king, last truth and women.
Among these three, the king chose the third for oblation.
Claiming the reality of woman requires a powerful choice.
From their living presence comes the human race.
Yet over centuries patriarchy has stifled their voice.
We must acknowledge their importance or truth erase.
A delightful woman, Apame, conducted herself with humor.
She knew her part in the royal retinue; How to be true.
Taking cues from Spirit, she claimed her virtue apart from rumor.
Having the kings’ ear she could bring love, justice to all but a few.
Her father, Bartacus, had shown her loving care.
Brothers and a sister grew up ‘round an ample table.
A man of simple means, he would always truth dare.
Life, a gracious Creators’ gift asks of all what they are able.
Young Apame knew of her position in the patriarchal world.
With courage she asserted her strength and might.
A most appealing banner of feminine power she unfurled.
Bringing the king a chance for truth unvarnished to sight.
Hail to thee, young women fair, bring your vision out.
Disdain the lessor view culture often asks you to take.
Your bodies, your minds, your grace-filled hearts don’t doubt.
Creator gifts you into life, bring us truth, don’t forsake.
Subversive texts, these, saved over eons for us to read.
Characters real, they remind of our places to accept.
No person must be overlooked, denied, in falseness bleed,
For Spirit will ever underline truth while power has slept.
The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.
5 March 2013
In my seminary Christian Scriptures class, we were given a writing assignment that required us to re-write Luke's story of the Prodigal Son, incorporating the mother, who is not originally included. It's a bit too long to post here, so here is a link to it posted on my own blog... it was a really fun assignment!
ReplyDeletehttp://contentedlychaotic.blogspot.com/2013/02/luke-1511-31.html
imaginative. thanks. you've succeeded in bringing mother into the story.
Deleteronaldo
At my previous church a dear woman helped me understand biblical stories from her perspective as a woman. She always cried at our Good Friday service, and I assumed it was because Jesus died. She finally told me, " I feel so bad for Mary who had to watch her son being crucified." I know Mary is a well known woman in the Bible but I was moved by considering Good Friday from a different perspective, and wanted to share it with you.
ReplyDeleteJoel
Spirit often helps us sympathize with the biblical events. thanks.
Deleteronaldo
It is sad that a lot of women (and men) can identify with that, even though their child was guilty.
DeleteSylvia.
I've always concentrated on the suffering of Jesus on Good Friday, but of course, Mary's agony must have been intense. As a mother and grandmother, I can't imagine what grief she must have felt in being powerless to stop the torture and death of her beloved son. Now I'll be crying all the harder during the Good Friday service!
DeleteIn II Timothy Paul mentions he is reminded of Timothy's sincere faith "that first resided in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice." That makes me Timothy's brother! If my mother were to be mentioned in the Bible it certainly would be about her sincere faith. What a blessing for many of us. Some day I will write a piece of prose for her or about her. I written for my grandparents and my father. I don't yet know where to begin. But at this point she is the prose of here own life. Thanks mom.
ReplyDeleteA blessed woman of faith. You have brought to my mind those fine disciples in my family. Thank you.
Deleteronaldo
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ReplyDeleteMarlene, what a wonderful story and really really nicely written! This is a treasure in so many ways. Thank you for sharing! In some ways its a different voice than you normally write too.
ReplyDeleteBLESSED ARE THE PERSISTENT
ReplyDeleteBy Marlene Obie
It had been a long, tedious day at the market, and she had very little profit to show for it. It started out badly and went to worse and worser. She should have chucked it when the wheel on the cart fell off before she even got down to the road. But no, being the diehard that she was, she bundled up her scarves and packed them onto the donkey along with her daughter. Getting the girl to ride the donkey was in itself a major feat. She had to drape a large cloth over the donkey, taking care that not one bristly hair would touch her daughter’s skin, then coax and bribe her onto the animal. Otherwise, there would be screeches that would set horses and camels into chaotic motion, causing their loads of merchandise to take flight and their owners to burst into barrages of curses and murderous threats.
Since her husband had insisted on taking Yassib along with his older brothers on the fishing boat, there was no one to help keep the girl from causing havoc all day by bouncing into other vendors’ tents, messing up their displays, and grabbing whatever she fancied. In order to keep her and others safe, the woman had to fasten a long rope around the girl’s waist with the other end tied to the tent pole. The girl would, of course, object to her confinement with pitiful cries which painted her mother as a hideous leviathon.
With her attention partially diverted toward keeping her daughter contained and amused, she was not effective at calling customers to look at her wares; and her patience was thin as parchment with those who haggled about prices of the fine woven cloths she had spent hours producing. On the way home, a couple Roman soldiers had mocked her and snatched up one of the scarves that was hanging out of the bundle before riding away laughing.
She felt like twice her age when she finally got home. After laying the half-asleep child down in the house and unloading the donkey, she was about to collapse herself when she noticed a boisterous crowd jamming the road below her house. In the center of the slow-moving mass was a man whose very appearance pulled her deeply buried longings for her daughter into action. People were calling out the name of “Jesus.”
She had heard of this man some said was the Messiah, sent from God to free and restore the nation of Israel. He was even known to speak of God as his father. Indeed, she had lost faith in the gods of her people and had recently asked this invisible Jehovah to forgive any sins of hers that may have been visited upon her daughter and show her daughter merciful deliverance. Suddenly, an inner power propelled her down the path towards the road. She shouted, “Please, Messiah, come heal my daughter!” He seemed to look at her, but turned and continued without acknowledgement, so she followed and continued yelling, “Please, please! I know you can cast out her demon and let her have a normal life.” The men around him shoved her away, but the women left openings for her to get closer. Finally, he stopped and faced her. He said his mission was to not to her people, saying that would be like taking food from the family and feeding it to the dogs. That plucked at her final frayed nerve. She reminded him rather curtly that even the dogs were entitled to some crumbs.
Those around Jesus gasped and glared at her, but he stopped and turned to her with a smile and a look of true compassion. “You are right, my daughter. Your plucky faith is truly greater than many of these.”
He waived his hand upward and then toward the house and said, “It is done.”
Tears of joy! You've opened the short story door. I want to read more! Well done.
Deleteronaldo
Leah
ReplyDeleteGenesis 29:17, “Leah had weak eyes while Rachel was beautiful”
The saga of Jacob working for seven years to claim Rachel as his bride, only to find Leah had been put in her place, is well known. I always felt badly for Jacob that his father-in-law had deceived him. I didn't give Leah much thought.
Not until mid-life when I experienced severe vision-loss with all that entails. The next time I read that story I took another look at Leah.
"Oh Leah" I thought. "I am sorry I didn't appreciate you. You were so accepting, so patient and courageous. I know how you had to work to learn how to do the things that needed to be done. I did too! I know how hard it was to be patient and accepting. I have had to do that too. I can see how much courage you had.
I haven't gotten there yet. But otherwise I have been there! Done that!
I have noticed that other versions of the Bible evade the blunt truth by saying Leah's eyes were 'delicate' or 'tender' or one version even claims Leah’s eyes were 'lovely.' I don't know what scholarly interests were served by these changes but I do believe they take away all that Leah has to teach us.
I prefer the Leah with the 'weak' eyes and strong heart.
Clarene Aitken
6 March 2013
touching truth, powerful faith, God's grace moving through you. thanks
Deleteronaldo