My Lenten Rose is trying to bloom. Yesterday I cleared the dead leaves away from her tender pink shoots. She sits in dry dirt next to the cheeky and triumphant, much taller daffodils, the spiky crocus shoots. Her leaves are from last year, somehow she forgot to take them off…
One year ago, Holy One, I stood next to your altar in your church. I remembered the complicated rhythms of the Eucharistic Prayer – bow, words, sing, cross, bow. One year ago I was communed with bread and wine, I washed your flesh into mine with the spice of dark wine.
I am not the only one who longs for the thrill of organ notes, the full voiced singing, the black cassock, the passing of the peace that must be reigned in, the smell of coffee and the clink and sparkle of coffee hour cutlery and conversation.
Holy Gardner, won’t you help us to bloom? Won’t you rake back all that is dead around us, won’t you tenderly clip the parts we need to leave behind? Won’t you sprinkle us once more with relationships and life giving water? When will our exile end?
Alicia Hager resides in West Michigan and is a Postulant to the Sacred Order of Priests in the Episcopal Church. Alicia enjoys spending time with her daughters and her husband, is bonkers about her cats, and blogs at astrawberrypointe.wordpress.com.
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