Forty Days

Matthew 4:1 Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. 2 He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterwards he was famished.

Come away with me for a while

to wilderness, desert, or your own neighborhood;

the journey inward is littered with temporal securities,

tossed aside as their worth is examined.

With each letting go comes a mixture

of anxiety and relief, fear and release;

that on which our safety seems propped

faces the dare of letting go, letting down.

Long-time companions are still around,

word and silence, listening and breath;

but our reliance on them has been relegated

to moments of crisis, matters of chaos.

Our suburban securities sufficiently strewn,

the invitation is to reacquaint ourselves

with the basic tools of faithful living,

daring us to trust simplicity again, for the first time.

Sound of the beating heart emerges,

rhythm of measured breathing settles in,

holy words slowly wash over stillness,

graceful Otherness bubbles to the surface.

The only path that leads to resurrection

takes us through the purple haze of pain,

leads us in the dance of suffering,

nails us to the tree of unliving.

The empty tomb cannot be reached

unless we dare to bare ourselves

to rigor mortis’ relentless march,

before the rising sun of grace’s throne.

© 2004 Todd Jenkins