Unfolding Light

             The younger son said,“Give me my share of the property…”
             The older son said, “You never gave me so much as a goat…”
                         —Luke 15.12, 29

Gracious One, I imagine your sadness
that we only pray for the stuff we want—
not for you, for your closeness —for your sake.

“Please fix this disease.
Thanks for the sunset.
Protect my child.”

There is so much I want,
so much I worry about.
I lay them all down.

I just want you. No stuff.
Let me be near to you.
Beloved, hold me close.

Not for me, but for you, for love of you,
may I always, most generously,
extravagantly, give myself to you.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Fear is Satan’s press secretary.
It will try to convince you of all kinds of lies.

Dread of the future is sometimes justified—
but be wary: it wants to kidnap the present.

Sit with your fear, and listen.
Do you fear losing something?

Then beneath your fear is grief.
Grieve, then, as if all is already lost.

Grief, of course, is love made powerless.
Well, we were powerless to begin with.

Let your fear sink into grief and rise as love.
Bereft now of all but love, nothing else to lose,

you are not captive to your fear.
You carry it, like a costly treasure.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Imagine a story about a recklessly extravagant man
who has lost two sons to two different shades of pride.
To each he goes out, forgives, welcomes, offers his wealth,
and invites them in to a party, because he is happy.

Imagine his joy withstanding their selfishness,
two sons who only speak of what they want from him,
who distance themselves from him and each other—
and still his joy overflows.

Imagine a God so prodigal with grace and blessing,
who loves us who have strayed
and us who think we’re more deserving,
and, free of our past, embraces us all, and is happy.

Imagine being a prodigal of God, extravagantly loving,
spreading it wantonly, forgiving the undeserving,
living in the present moment, totally free,
trusting God’s abundance, and full of joy.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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O Homeless Heart,
may mine be yours
till you are not.

O Love, O Leap of Joy,
may yours be mine
till it is everyone’s.

O Broken Heart,
break wide in me,
that I may be made whole.

O Sorrowing Soul,
whose tears are love,
your grieving is my hope.

O Meekest One,
whose only might is not your own,
your powerlessness be my strength.

O Crucified God,
your death be my birth,
your risen life my life.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

I am on my deathbed.
Here are gathered
my most beloved,
nine around me,
and behind them twenty more,
and beyond a million more,
a great circle of those to whom I belong.

As the great eye closes
they start to fade.
—But look! It is they who depart, not I!

I am here in my present moment,
in my belovedness forever.
But they are drifting off into mystery,
into unknown futures, hidden wonders,
unseen dangers, unimagined losses.
I worry for them.

I lean against the fading.
I push my way back.
I come to them alive and vibrant.

Now. I have this time, these hours
or decades,
to love them well,
to love them fully and fiercely
before they are taken from me.

My life is my deathbed,
and nothing but love my final act.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

             “Let the tree alone for one more year,
             until I dig around it and put manure on it.
             If it bears fruit next year, well and good…”
                         —Luke 13.8-9

God, your judgment
is not punishment but mercy,
what nourishes me,
even if it comes in disruption,
and having to deal with some shit.

Holy One,
how are you digging around
in the soil of my soul?
What are you disturbing?
Loosening? Unearthing?
Give me patience to abide,
and wisdom to attend.

Show me how I might be nurtured
by the crap I endure.
Your will is not to punish or to test,
but to enrich the soil of my heart
so I may grow in trust and generosity,
and bear the fruit of your love.
In all things, God, feed my soul.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording: