Cheryl J. Heser
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CHERYL'S BLOG:  BELIEVING AND SHINING!

March 25th, 2019

3/25/2019

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March 25, 2019
 
              On this foggy morning I am reminded that spring has come in all its variety, and I think that the same concept applies to this season before Easter. We as Christians are given this time to contemplate our relationship with our Savior, our need for forgiveness, and our journey during our time on earth.
              The variety comes from the fact that this time mirrors Jesus’ time in the desert when He was preparing for His ministry. I want to share a poem I wrote during a time in the desert, in the hope that it will give you something to think about during this time.
Lenten Desert Reveries
One step after another, we travel this old river gulch where
the basket people dwelled and grew their corn,
stored it in ancient granaries in the sandstone cliffs,
and left their symbols carved and painted there, where
the ancient hunters forever track the bighorn sheep and
the spirit gods live on the walls and in the winds.
High above the golden and crimson sandstone edifices, a trio of birds
trills a lilting melody into the stillness,
while a golden marmot and long-tailed grey squirrels search
for crunchy seeds, berries, and pinyon nuts.
At the end of the canyon, cliffs reach toward the burning sun;
but from a tiny fissure, water falls into the parched air, then
meanders down, caressing moss and tiny plants, dripping softly
into pools reflecting stones and sky.
 
One step after another, Jesus wanders the desert paths where
ancient shepherds have guided their flocks,
searching for forage in a sun-radiating, barren land.
Among the multi-colored rocks and sifting sands, Satan
offers worldly power, stones into bread, and great renown –
rejected by just a retreating back and reverberating words.
High in the cliffs, a dove awaits John’s baptizing hands, when
Jesus’ feet will leave the desert paths, find the fishermen, and
walk another way that leads to Gethsemane and Golgotha.
A tiny break in the world’s hard-baked crust, in human hearts, and
the springs in the desert begin to nourish birth and life,
creating pools in our world reflecting the will of God until
a bloody cross lowers, a barrier stone is rolled away, and
a flowered world welcomes all.
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    I just want to continue to share ideas about grief and life with people who long as I do for comfort and understanding.

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