Food for the Soul | February 17th, 2021

2/17/2021 

PXL_20210114_171707039.jpg

 

Dear Friends,  

 

As we enter the season of Lent, I am reminded that all four gospels bring us the story of the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River right at the beginning of his ministry. Jesus prepared himself for almost thirty years for the time he would begin his mission. It was a new beginning for him.  

 

Water is such a powerful element with so many symbolic meanings. Water is our source of life; for nine months we are immersed in it in the womb. We go to the waters for cleansing, both physically and spiritually. We were baptized with water, symbolizing a rebirth, a new beginning. We need to drink water to keep our bodies healthy, and we go to the spiritual fountains when we thirst for a deeper relationship with God. Water helps us to leave behind those parts of ourselves we don’t want or need any longer. Just as Jesus, when we come out of the water, we hear God’s voice saying “you are my son/daughter; with you I am well pleased.” With that powerful knowledge we can confidently go into the desert and prepare for our own mission in life. I wish you all a prayerful Lent. 

 

 

PRAYER 

 

A Prayer for Peace 

 

Do not cling to the events of the past 

or dwell on what happened long ago. 

Watch for the new thing I am going to do. 

It is happening already – you can see it now! 

I will make a road through the wilderness 

and give you streams of water there. 

Even the wild animals will honor me; 

jackals and ostriches will praise me 

when I make rivers flow in the desert 

to give water to my chosen people. 

  • Isaiah 43:18-20 

 

 

PRACTICE 

 

Think of water as something sacred. Remember how privileged you are to have this sacred water at your disposal. Be intentional and mindful of how you use this sacred gift. You were baptized with it. When you take your shower think of the benefits the water regales you with. May it become for you another baptism marking the beginning of a daily rebirth.  

 

 

POEM 

 

Journey 

  • Linda Hogan 

 

The mouth of the river may be beautiful. 

It doesn’t remember the womb of its beginning. 

It doesn’t look back to where it has been 

or wonder who ahead of it polished the rough stones. 

 

It is following the way 

in its fullness, 

now like satin, 

now cresting, 

waters meeting, kindred 

to travel gathered together, 

all knowing it flows 

one way, shining or in shadows. 

And me, the animal 

I ride wants to drive forward, 

its longing not always my own, 

overrunning its banks and bounds, 

edgeless, spilling along the way 

 

because, as I forget, 

it knows everything 

is before it.  

 

Kyle Picha