Friday, April 10, 2020

Coming and Going and Coming Again

At sunrise 
the snow was up to the chickedees’ knees 
as they waited for Denny to fill the feeder.
Every Friday that the feeder is full 
is a good Friday for them.
On Good Friday, 
we think of Jerusalem
and the rootedness of that place 
to the center of The Story.
We think of the fall of man
and restoration, the Messiah. 
Of shrieking defeat 
and incomprehensible victory 
in one weekend.
Of the ancient mysteries 
and the not-yet mysteries.
Travel is impossible now,
and we feel the uncomfortable chafing 
of being caught between 
the ancient 
and the not-yet.

Now it is afternoon. 
The birds go have come 
and gone 
and come again.
The raucous redwings
do not practice social distancing
and are wing to wing with the doves.
Peace.
I am couched, 
trying to ponder the holy 
and feeling inadequate. 
I struggle to hold my mind to task
and have recurring thoughts of cookies.
This very day eternal things are happening, 
spiritual, 
medical, 
financial, 
governmental,
things that are changing life as we know it.
Jesus seems like the birds,
coming
and going
and coming again.
When?
Feels like soon. 
Whenever, may we be ready, 
worthy because of the Good Friday sacrifice of Jesus 
and the daily grace of God.

I think I’ll celebrate with a cookie.

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