Serendipity
Even
during Lent, serendipity can surprise and gratify us. This morning I
received an email from a bookstore in Oxford, Mississippi (I'd ordered a
book from the shop a few years ago and was added to their mailing
list). The lead story in their newsletter was about the late poet Mary
Oliver, who was clearly beloved and admired by readers despite being
looked at as less than serious by the poetry establishment because she
wrote about things like nature and God. The piece was admiring and
ended with this poem by Oliver:
If
you're having trouble praying during this Lent, I encourage you to read
and ponder Mary Oliver's words, which should liberate you and get you
on your way to talking with God.
Praying
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
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