"Begin Here and Now"

A journal with a smudge as its first entry … a smudge from the unmistakable and sooty cross drawn on my forehead this Ash Wednesday.  A journal with a smudge as its first entry … a smudge from the unmistakable and sooty cross drawn on my forehead this Ash Wednesday.

It is the fresh page as if it happened to be the first day of my life.  It will become the place where transgressions will be scribbled with a shaky hand, where hopes for a clean slate will be whispered, where written prayers find a home and where deafening silences become spaces of purpose.
 
A smudge of a cross on a page, saying to me, “Begin here and now.” Such is the beginning of these 40 days of Lent.

"Here I Am, Such As I Am"

Here I am, such as I am …

Imperfect.

Weak.

Broken.

In need of forgiveness.

In need of your Presence.

Here I am, such as I am …

Confessing.

Repentant.

Hopeful.

Listening.

Here I am, such as I am …

Willing to be melted

and molded.

Wanting a newly-created

pure heart.

Here I am, such as I am …

Branded with a mark –

Your unmistakable mark.

Lead me, O God …

walk with me 

in these 40 days. 

Amen.

"This is Our Tomorrow" (the day before Ash Wednesday)

I realize that I have shared this in years past, but" this is our tomorrow" ... each and every year. Blessings as you prepare for Ash Wednesday and for these 40 days of Lent.   anna

Neglected,

it rests on the corner,

visible to all,

yet ignored by most …

it has been empty

far too long.

This morning,

this day before 

Ash Wednesday,

the front of the building

has been painted 

a brilliant white

and the windows

on each side 

of the entrance door

are now adorned 

with new, royal blue awnings.

Yet the “For Sale” sign

is still posted,

weather-worn

from the years 

of begging 

and pleading

for someone to look…

just look and consider

the property’s value.

If one dares 

to look closer,

beyond the brilliant white paint

and the royal blue awnings,

the other sides 

of the building can be seen.

Three other sides …

a dingy beige

with peeling paint 

and windows broken

by those who think nothing

of doing damage 

to something that is not theirs.

The flat roof

can no longer withstand

the weight of

years of debris

or torrential rains

that only accumulate 

and puddle 

in its flatness.

The property is

overgrown with weeds

and littered by those things

that others have so carelessly

and thoughtlessly

thrown its way.

What are we to think

of an appealing façade

of fresh paint 

and new awnings?

What are we to think 

of neglect 

and damage … 

of brokenness 

and litter …

of weeds 

and debris

and puddles?

Perhaps this is exactly

what we will bring with us

tomorrow … 

on this day we call

Ash Wednesday.

We bring with us

freshly painted facades 

and new awnings,

hoping beyond hope 

that those around us

will not see the 

neglect and damage,

the brokenness and litter,

the weeds and shattered hearts.

The black soot 

marks our façade

with a cross …

and the ash 

falls onto our awnings.

The difficult admission 

that there are

other sides to be seen

are whispered in prayer

and are heard by the One 

who has clearly seen 

all four sides

of each of us.

This is our tomorrow.

Holy God,

we come to you 

in need of repair …

not in part,

but throughout 

our whole being.

Create in us

a newness in our days,

a wholeness and healing through you,

a purpose in your kingdom,

hope in your love

and a pure heart before you.

Amen.

© 2013  anna murdock

"Changes From the Glimpse of Glory"

I often spell my name

‘anna’,

in lower-case letters

for reasons

that have been

humbling

and focused

and yet, at times,

a little uncertain

in the journey.

But there are

other days when

‘Anna’ is

wanted

and felt

as I walk

along the way

with a little more

confidence

and more awareness

of God’s Presence,

just waiting

to blind me

with surprises.

Always,

I am reminded,

that I am

‘ANNA’ …

greatly beloved,

written in letters

formed by God

with the flourish

of  grace and mercy…

made bold

by the Holy Spirit…

capitalized by Jesus’

call to discipleship.

.

But there is one 

who reminds me

that my name

is also spelled

‘aNNa’

as one who lingered

at the foot of the mountain

perhaps a little too long …

as one who has

climbed up to the

top of the mountain …

as one who has

seen the smallest portion

of the Glory of God …

as one who has heard

“Shhh.  Listen!

This is my Son, the Beloved” …

and as one

who has been

sent back down

from the mountaintop

as anna

and Anna

and ANNA!

"A Wedding at Cana"

(Lectionary scriptures ... John 2:1-12)

It was on the third day

when a mother heard her son

call her “Woman”.

It would not be the last time.

It was on the third day

when people gathered

and with a great thirst

cried out, “What are we to do?”

It was on the third day

when the old ways of cleansing

took on a new look and fragrance.

The very best was spilled out for all.

It was on the third day

when a miracle occurred.

“Enough for everyone” was the miracle.

“Enough of the best for everyone!”

It was on the third day

when the glory of the Lord

was revealed …

and the disciples believed.

And it was on the third day

when there was a great celebration

at a wedding in Cana …

and at a tomb in Jerusalem …

and within us all

forever more.

"A Prayer On Epiphany, 2016"

O God …

Surprise us and stir our hearts to seek your own heart. Prepare us, dress us, supply us for our journeys of faith. In your own way and of your own choosing, speak to each of us that we might be a people who venture out in faith to following your lead. Give us,  Beckoning God, an amount of strength, persistence, trust, perseverance and peace on our journey. Transform us along the way. Bruise our knees with the depth of a different kind of worship. Remind us to breathe deeply the fragrance of permeating worship that fills us with joy overflowing. Open our hearts, minds and hands to present our gifts to you.

Return us, Giver of Starlight, to the place we are to be. Return us by another road. Yes, even as you call us to breathe in both the sweetness of the news of Emmanuel, the Christ-child, as well as the darkness of this world, whisper to each of us, "Now, exhale my Love to all."

Amen.

Advent Morning - Wednesday, Dec. 2, 2015

The fog was very dense this morning and there was a light drizzle of rain.  I drove through the middle of the city and noticed that only one of the many Christmas decorations on the lamp posts was lit. Yes, only one trying its best to be seen through the fog.  A mile beyond the lone lamp post Christmas decoration was an elderly man standing on the side of the road … tousled white hair and wearing shorts on this December day.  He held a small tree branch high above his head and was shouting something to those of us who passed by.

It occurs to me that these moments in my morning are much like the beginning days of our Advent. A (Christmas) Light shine in the darkness and a voice cries out (in the fog), “In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

This was my Advent morning.