Orphan

By Tony Robledo

Imagine.

You are a child, small and unnoticed, who wakes every morning to the bustling sounds, chuckles, and shrieks of other orphaned children. It’s the only kind of waking world you’ve ever known. Every morning, the lingering smell of ammonia from the night cleaning crew. Every morning, a nurse wiping up accidents in the hall outside your door. Every morning, alone in a room crowded with other children. You have no parents, no mist of memory, no whisper of a past, no foggy recollections. Only a small, strange mark on your chest. There was no paperwork, just a name tag tucked into a whimpering bundle on the back stoop of an orphanage waiting to be found, to be heard, to be loved. You are a child, small and unnoticed. And today is no different.

Prayer of Confession – Isaiah 53

By Matthew Tully 

Father, we come before you today in humility and with reverence.
You are a great God, but we are an unworthy people.

We have not listened to your words, words of life and peace.
We have not obeyed your instructions, instructions intended to guard us and glorify you.

The Rising Sun

By Tony Robledo

A narrative, inspired by a prayer titled “At the dawn” written by Walter Brueggemann:

A fine thing, I am: a man of my word.

I won’t make you a promise I can’t keep–you can count on me. I’ll be there. Because I’m a man of my word.

In fact, I think the other day I told you to meet me at the Third Coast–the one on Dearborn–so I could catch up with you and the latest news and, how is home? Good? So glad to hear it. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, and I’ll listen; I’ll soothe your sobbing, heaving soul and I’ll be the one you call when it matters most. I’ll be there–I told you I would. Because I’m a man of my word.

You and Then Us

by Amy Gilbaugh

You came to us, in all Your glory. And we were confused because You were riding a donkey.You said You would bring us peace. And we were confused because You didn’t start a war.You joined us to Your side in partnership and love. And we were confused that You would ask us to stay awake to pray in the middle of the night.

You said You were a revolutionary. And we were confused when You told us to stop cutting off ears.

You committed no sin. And we were confused when You remained silent to Your accusers.

Grace Upon Grace

by Amy Gilbaugh

Matthew 17:22-23: “Now while they were staying in Galilee, Jesus said to them, ‘The Son of Man is about to be betrayed into the hands of men, and they will kill him, and the third day He will be raised up.’ And they were exceedingly sorrowful.”

I’ve been reading through Matthew again. It’s rich, you know? There’s story after story after story about Jesus healing the sick and casting out demons. Now, when we hear those words we have already decided what we think about them. They’re cool tricks, right? Or we’re convinced they’re attractive, something like a circus act at which we only wish we could have been present. I mean, if we were, we would really believe.

All these cases of sickness and healing, possession and exorcism come to a climax. The disciples are at the height of their ministry internship and are more convinced than ever of who Jesus is. And then He drops this on them.

“The Son of Man is about to be betrayed into the hands of men.”

You and Me

by Katelyn McNeil

I am weary.

I have not taken time to hideaway with You. Instead, I have talked, and read, and stressed, and worked, and eaten, and worried… I’m sorry. I’ve said ‘yes’ when I should have said ‘no’. I’m sorry for living today like I do not long for You.

But I do, I do long for You.

Always You

by Amy Gilbaugh

We think ourselves radical, the way we wait for You.

We give up things, and, well, it’s hard. We stir ourselves up to hunger for You by provoking the cravings of our stomachs and tongues. We choose to cause ourselves to want You again. To miss You even as we miss our desserts.

This Lenten season is getting long, You know.

And then, in a shattering moment of radical self-awareness, we realize we are not the radical ones. We look around and see that we all, the whole lot of us, are in the same place… stirring up, provoking, choosing. We cannot all be radical, and we give ourselves away.

And then we notice You.