A prayer of dare from a freshly detoxicated stress addict

Being on retreat is like rehab for stress junkies. Hello, my name is Marsha, I'm a stressaholic, and my retreat is the Festival of Faith & Writing at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

A few days in the presence of graceful words, kindred spirits, and a packed-but-predetermined schedule (or, perhaps here at Calvin, "predestined") and I feel strong, capable, confident, optimistic, certain to become the wise and wonderful person I've always wanted to be.

Oh, let it be! May it be so!

(Or at least let this feeling linger longer than the pessimistic person I left behind in A-Town would have dared to hope.)

Amen.


Pretty picture by a stranger, likewise inspired by this gathering: http://jscottmc.wordpress.com/tag/calvin-college/

Good Friday Trio

MinnesotaBrown.com (the 10th image from Googling: beard polyester beer cross)

Today I saw two wild-bearded, middle-aged men,

driving a battered white Volvo through the main intersection of my town.

I thought they might be retired rockers. (ZZ Top?)

Today I saw one white-haired woman wearing an emerald-green polyester suit,

clutching a big black handbag, precariously crossing the same intersection.

I thought she must be headed to church, as she undoubtedly does yearly—good woman, Good Friday.

Today I saw a stocky stranger trying to steal beer.

The store manager stopped him 50 feet from the front door of my favorite place to buy candy and cards (which happens to stand at the same said intersection).

Watching the thwarted thief lug his 24-pack back into the drugstore,

I thought of the criminal on the cross next to Jesus,

and prayed that his destiny would parallel Christ’s neighbor’s.

“Truly I tell you: Today you will be with me in paradise.” – Luke 23:43