It’s been a Martha morning full of tasks
Suppressing my annoyance at the help I had to ask.
But thank God it is Sunday and it’s time for church,
Where Jesus gently turns my eyes away from my own works
And as I fix my mind upon the empty tomb.
I release the tension in my jaw and shoulders to make room,
To receive the elemental gift, his body and his blood
In their tangible expression of his promise, precious food.
The hungry child that is my soul, fed with the manna new
And sitting at the feet of God, anointed and renewed
Releasing rags of self sufficient martyrdom, all vain
I find the sabbath rest His word assures me still remains
For the people of God.
Writ & Whimsy 
Leave a comment