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
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Sacred Steps
Have you ever walked a prayer labyrinth? What was your experience? If you haven't walked a prayer labyrinth, have you ever taken what you considered to be a sacred walk? Where and when and why what made it sacred to you?
Two recent ones. I was visiting Sta. Maria Maggiore in Rome. It was the middle of the day and there were services taking place all around me. I joined in a service at the main altar. This is a 4th century basilica with many of the original decorations. As the priests came in I realized that their vestments hadn't changed much since they were Roman temple vestments. I was suddenly transported to the 4th century but keenly aware of the span of time. I felt very connected as I went up for the sacrament. The building and the environment did everything it was supposed to do to me. The second experience was in Yamagata Japan at Yamadera. This seems nothing more than a walk in the woods up a small hill to a temple with a great view. But the poet Basho stayed in the woods and wrote some of his best poetry. So did I. I think my companions thought I was just old and slow. They wanted to get to the top. I wanted to linger among the rocks and cedar trees as Basho did. Every few feet was a new inspiration and a new connection with perfect nature as only the Shinto can find it. No wonder there were five temples along the way. Such a mundane thing as a walk in the woods in such a perfect place. My kenotic soul was very happy. Look at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yama-dera and google pictures. Doug Millar
Dawn calls us to make our way from bed; On the path of faith we tread; Each step we move on God’s way; Serving, singing Spirit’s lay; Show mercy, Lord.
Faith makes this walk holy work, Asking justice, world’s gone berserk; Keep our hearts and minds on task, ‘Til we in your presence bask; Show mercy, Lord.
Lord Your hands and feet we are, Simple presence reaching far, Not alone we make our camp, Through the night we use Your lamp, Show mercy, Lord.
Up from bed our night’s been slept, Quiet mood as seconds crept, In the fresh dawn light we go, Maker giving seeds to sow, Show mercy, Lord.
Every day God calls us forth, Ours to use life’s new birth, Bringing us adventure true, Blessing all, not just the few, Show mercy, Lord.
I've really enjoyed and am enjoying your poetry, Ronald! I really think that this one in particular could turn out to be a contemporary hymn, which marries the beauty of traditional style with words that speak to all people of today. As with David, Sappho and other fine contemporary musicians, we know that they were really poets, which is your soul as well. Thank you for your words and wisdom : )
We walked the final part of the trail with purpose we were headed home.
By Pastor Larry P Morris Our conversation had slowly ended and the only sound was the rhythmic padding of our boots on the dry dirt trail. We walked through the centennial trees, passing through their home with a quiet holiness. We were in their space and welcomed to it. It became clear to me on that hike that those trees would likely be on this earth longer than I would and in a new way I was honored to have met them.
Padding on the surface of the earth My toes touching loam Pine needles pricking my arches The warm dry air Is peppered with the mist of waterfalls Breathing in the scent of bark Vanilla Scrambling over boulders Conquering one and looking up the sheer granite cliffs At another At the pinnacle You see God’s marble collection Massive granite shoved aside by glaciers Water wearing away the stone chaff Like an artist, using her hands against the clay
Along the wooden walks I tread, over marshland here in the Northwest, , where I never know what sacred surprises of wildlife might enter my view— eagle, otter, beaver, heron, muskrat, turtles, duck families….
As I prayed along a labyrinth in the desert amid intermittent bird voices that break into the silence without disturbing it, I absorbed the quiet. My eyes focused on the path as I moved along the pattern without the urge to rush to the center, stopping at times to breathe out and let go of pestering intrusions of my ever busy mind. In the middle, I stood and turned around slowly as I breathed in the peace. I looked out at mountains unlike the ones I am used to and the open landscape dotted with standoffish plants and marveled at the beauty of their prickliness.
My silent prayers flew out for myself, family, friends, community members who who were in emotional deserts, as well as for those who would be literally crossing the desert, and I followed the path out, giving thanks for the blooms that appear and are protected. I smiled at the saguaros raising their arms that each take as many years as my life now to grow, while they patiently live their calling of providing sanctuary and sustenance.
At home, a few days later, I rushed out of the house, into my routine, groaning about the wet day, and my eyes were washed open by the Spring-colored yards on my way through my day and a sense of normalcy. I saw the grace and beauty of my everyday steps, as they follow the pattern to which I am called.
Two recent ones.
ReplyDeleteI was visiting Sta. Maria Maggiore in Rome. It was the middle of the day and there were services taking place all around me. I joined in a service at the main altar. This is a 4th century basilica with many of the original decorations. As the priests came in I realized that their vestments hadn't changed much since they were Roman temple vestments. I was suddenly transported to the 4th century but keenly aware of the span of time. I felt very connected as I went up for the sacrament. The building and the environment did everything it was supposed to do to me.
The second experience was in Yamagata Japan at Yamadera. This seems nothing more than a walk in the woods up a small hill to a temple with a great view. But the poet Basho stayed in the woods and wrote some of his best poetry. So did I. I think my companions thought I was just old and slow. They wanted to get to the top. I wanted to linger among the rocks and cedar trees as Basho did. Every few feet was a new inspiration and a new connection with perfect nature as only the Shinto can find it. No wonder there were five temples along the way. Such a mundane thing as a walk in the woods in such a perfect place. My kenotic soul was very happy.
Look at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yama-dera and google pictures.
Doug Millar
Brother Doug;
Deletethanks for bringing us along.
ronaldo
I now have another item for my 'bucket list'. I thin that walking Basho's walk sounds just heavenly (pun intended ; )
DeleteSo when you visit Mika in her home town, ask to go. Of all the places in Japan it was one of the most mystical and quintessent. Dad
DeleteDaily Walk
ReplyDelete[Sonne Der Gerechtigkeit]
Dawn calls us to make our way from bed;
On the path of faith we tread;
Each step we move on God’s way;
Serving, singing Spirit’s lay;
Show mercy, Lord.
Faith makes this walk holy work,
Asking justice, world’s gone berserk;
Keep our hearts and minds on task,
‘Til we in your presence bask;
Show mercy, Lord.
Lord Your hands and feet we are,
Simple presence reaching far,
Not alone we make our camp,
Through the night we use Your lamp,
Show mercy, Lord.
Up from bed our night’s been slept,
Quiet mood as seconds crept,
In the fresh dawn light we go,
Maker giving seeds to sow,
Show mercy, Lord.
Every day God calls us forth,
Ours to use life’s new birth,
Bringing us adventure true,
Blessing all, not just the few,
Show mercy, Lord.
The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.
18.3.14
I've really enjoyed and am enjoying your poetry, Ronald! I really think that this one in particular could turn out to be a contemporary hymn, which marries the beauty of traditional style with words that speak to all people of today. As with David, Sappho and other fine contemporary musicians, we know that they were really poets, which is your soul as well. Thank you for your words and wisdom : )
DeleteHeaded Home Among Friends
ReplyDeleteWe walked the final part of the trail with purpose
we were headed home.
By Pastor Larry P Morris
Our conversation had slowly ended
and the only sound
was the rhythmic padding of our boots
on the dry dirt trail.
We walked through the centennial trees,
passing through their home
with a quiet holiness.
We were in their space
and welcomed to it.
It became clear to me on that hike
that those trees would likely be on this earth
longer than I would
and in a new way
I was honored
to have met them.
Lenten Walk
ReplyDeletePadding on the surface of the earth
My toes touching loam
Pine needles pricking my arches
The warm dry air
Is peppered with the mist of waterfalls
Breathing in the scent of bark
Vanilla
Scrambling over boulders
Conquering one and looking up the sheer granite cliffs
At another
At the pinnacle
You see God’s marble collection
Massive granite shoved aside by glaciers
Water wearing away the stone chaff
Like an artist, using her hands against the clay
Yosemite National Park...
DeleteVery nice. Takes me right there. Doug
DeleteBALANCE STEPS
ReplyDeleteBy Marlene Obie
Along the wooden walks I tread, over marshland here in the Northwest, ,
where I never know what sacred surprises of wildlife might enter my view—
eagle, otter, beaver, heron, muskrat, turtles, duck families….
As I prayed along a labyrinth in the desert amid intermittent bird voices
that break into the silence without disturbing it, I absorbed the quiet.
My eyes focused on the path as I moved along the pattern
without the urge to rush to the center, stopping at times
to breathe out and let go of pestering intrusions of my ever busy mind.
In the middle, I stood and turned around slowly as I breathed in the peace.
I looked out at mountains unlike the ones I am used to
and the open landscape dotted with standoffish plants
and marveled at the beauty of their prickliness.
My silent prayers flew out for myself, family, friends, community members
who who were in emotional deserts, as well as for those
who would be literally crossing the desert, and I followed the path
out, giving thanks for the blooms that appear and are protected.
I smiled at the saguaros raising their arms
that each take as many years as my life now to grow,
while they patiently live their calling of providing sanctuary
and sustenance.
At home, a few days later, I rushed out of the house, into my routine,
groaning about the wet day, and my eyes were washed open
by the Spring-colored yards on my way through my day
and a sense of normalcy. I saw the grace and beauty of my everyday steps,
as they follow the pattern to which I am called.