Our Hands Open (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
At the altar rail pausing, in prayer, waiting for the bread for the cup waiting for You to feel your ...
At the altar rail pausing, in prayer, waiting for the bread for the cup waiting for You to feel your ...
Christ's lesson on the two in the temple the rich Pharisee and the lowly tax collector The latter, humbly praying ...
Not in his dying however amazing his choosing to go to the cross for me So much shame, so much ...
Coming to this earth walking as a man going to the cross humbly, a servant judged for my sin dying ...
In fasting, in praying in the mark of the ashes preparing for Easter in penitent submission No longer the babe ...
Even as we enter the forty days of Lent pain in his dying palpable, within me Knowing how undeserving this ...
The joy of that Sunday the dancing children the swaying palms our hands, bodies moving with excitement The flames igniting ...
Entering the time of Lent mindful of his sacrifice the walk of our Lord after the transfiguration In his purposefulness, ...
Out behind the house gathering the burnt palms of Sunday the ashes of Wednesday for us to use in worship ...
Forty days of focus reflection on his journey the walk of our Lord heading to eternity Going before us setting ...
The palms requested gathered from their homes coming back to church for another yearly reminder the palms of the prior ...
at your table, at our table a space prepared for them your vulnerable children oh Lord, welcome here This table ...
Her little hands so purposeful opening each packet stirring the sugar, the creamer (a suggestion of her sister). A spill ...
All around us for each of us poured out Living water washing down raining down, filling our souls The love ...
Sweet, intoxicating, alluring spreading out onto the playground the bush changing the air soft, subtle, a presence lilac air at ...
Rising from the ashes, from the dust of earth rising to heaven, the court of the Lord So is this ...
Ashes on my fingers, on my skin, the smoke, filling my lungs the moment, the power, of the sacrifice these ...
This night, especially this night feeling you, Lord sitting beside me in the pew wanting only to take his hand ...
Setting his face toward Jerusalem knowing the cross ahead, waiting for him these days of journey, walking with Christ hopeful ...
From the earth, from the ashes we are formed, humble clay given living water, the breath of life after the ...
Marked by the ashes, the earth the palms of his procession welcoming the king a reminder of his tempting, his ...
Marked by the ashes, the stain of your offering a reminder of the dust, the dirt from which we come ...
My throat thick, my nostrils full the smell of their burning on my skin palms of the festival, of the ...
More than a noun, a period of time, forty days each year, between Ash Wednesday, and the joy of Easter ...
Did you see it, feel it did you stop and notice soak it in, taste it? I paused, scanned The ...
I never felt at Home -- Below -- And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home -- ...
Dew -- is the Freshet in the Grass -- 'Tis many a tiny Mill Turns unperceived beneath our feet And ...
It's Wednesday, September 6th and a birthday, again, these things arrive tediously on time with wry regularity - and sadly, ...
The angel of self-discipline, her guardian Since she first knew and had to go away From home that spring to ...
Lamoni, Iowa The factory siren tells workers time to go home tells them the evening has begun. When living with ...
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