Servant Freed!

Once upon a time, I was attending a mini-seminar on various spiritualities and prayer styles. The presenters invited the participants into practicing certain prayer styles.  This time, we were to place ourselves in the Scripture setting and use our imaginations. I struggled with this because I was in to the type of prayer that the fewer words the better, and just being attentive to the silence was enough for me. . . and I thought that of God too.  Well, I kept hearing – “let yourself go” and “enter into the setting” and “become one of the characters in the story.”  I thought this was too much busyness – but I felt the Spirit nudge me and I heard, “Go for it and stop resisting.”

And so I did and the following is the result of my resistance – God’s grace can creatively work through our resistance.

Servant Freed!
I stand in the darkened fissure of the stable,
lit only by the glowing face of the boy-child.
Parent eyes glistening with holy wonder,
while heavened stars point to
mangered Messiah.
I listen, I wonder, I breathe,
for I am only servant.

I stand in the darkened temple portico
observing those of the Law encircling
the teacher-child.
His face radiates with
purpose and passion about God’s call!
I listen, I wonder, I breathe,
for I am only servant.

I stand in the Cana garden among
the six stoneware water jars.
His mother moving his mission, “Do whatever he tells you.”
Waters of purification touched 
with words of transformation
become intoxicating wedding wine.
Speak these words over me . . .
Fill me to the brim with courage as
I listen, as I wonder, as I breathe,
For I am only servant.

I stand along the steep grassy edges of the 

partial rocky hillside,

His face emits energy with each spoken,

“Blessed are you!”

I listen, I wonder, I breathe,

for I am only servant.

I stand in the upper room, corner-concealed,

yet his eyes beckon me to move

within his touch.

His carpentered hands accept each foot

as with the artistry of fitting rough hewn wood.

With tender, soothing, healing – intimate

knowing, he bends to wash my feet.

Upon this embrace – God-light, God-love

streams into my very soul –

I listen and hear within me:

Untie her.

What do you want me to do for you?

Pick up your mat.

I do not condemn you.

You are worth more than many sparrows.

You are no longer servant – you are friend.

I wonder, I breathe . . . 

sjh