The truth and power
of our faith
hangs on the cross,
on the height of sacrifice
on the lengths and depths
Christ was willing to go
from holy conception
to physical resurrection
from passover supper
to Emmaus meal
to fish on the beach
to the promise of a feast
at his Father's high table.

The truth on which we stand
hangs on God made man
and on us made new
all due to our LORD Jesus Christ,
God's Son, our Saviour,
our once and for all time
holy, acceptable sacrifice.

The truth and power
of our faith
hangs on His cross.

Mother Earth
No sacrifice She makes
Is small
At the hands of many
Who do not honor
Her at all.

And yet each Spring
New life is born
Flowers bloom
And the animals play
Hope made new
From Winter's gloom.

But the hands of men
Need to understand
Her resilience
Will not last.
And that all humans
Have a responsibility
To preserve Her brilliance-
Steadfast.

Mother Earth
Her weight on our shoulders now
Yet She continues to give.
From Her roots & soils; harvest is plenty
Into our bellies
So that all may live.

May we set aside
Our pride and ego
And all our selfish industrial waste
Get back to nature; honoring Her lands
Great care we need to take
Of Mother Earth for all our days.

©KSS 2/18/2021

My depraved soul's unearthed
By the Holy Ghost's breath
And given new birth
Out of spiritual death

This wretch is turned 'round
Fit with eyes to believe
A lost sheep is found
And her Shepherd received

My blots are each edited
Out in Christ's fount
His righteousness credited
To my bankrupt account

A prisoner's been pardoned
No debt left to pay
A heart which was hardened
Becomes pliable clay

My life's set apart
Now from worldly regression
Picked out from the start
Made for Christ's own possession

I'm purchased with blood
Shed on Golgotha's tree
A slave bought by God
And fully set free

My sins were all laid
On the head of a Scapegoat
Who carried their weight
To a desert remote

Once an object of wrath
And deserving hell's fire
But Jesus took my bath—
Conflagration of God's ire

So an enemy no more
I'm brought into God's fold
Carried through His door
And out of night's cold

He calls me His child
His heir and His bride
Though once an orphan wild
Now seated at Christ's side

And soon He'll return
When salvation's complete
When no longer I'll yearn
For His own face I'll meet!

You have used the same palette for years,
mixing watercolors until they are indistinguishable,
one from the other, then washing it clean to begin again,

The plastic washes white each time, perfect and new,
bright and ready to start again, a new mix
of colors and texture, so easy

to save yourself
from yourself.

Ash Wednesday, and then it is Lent,
a season of sacrifice,
a reminder of Christ's own sacrifice 40 days hence.

The ashes have been wiped away
and the season begun,
barely noticed by some, for others,
it is at the heart of faith itself.

Your forehead is fresh and clean,
and your decisions made.
It is time to release the darkness,
to dance in the night,

and let your demons dance with you
before tossing them to the sky like dark balloons
for someone else to discover
after they are deflated.

Howl with the coyotes. Sing with the just arrived robins.
Wallow in the almost warm sun with the cats.
They know. Lent, for all its dour reputation,
is the almost spring, and worth celebrating.

A pause
A choice of disconnection
An examination of a new option
An opportunity to change direction

An opening
An invitation given for heavenly interruption
A deliberate choice for a fresh listen
A much needed full-stop punctuation

A calming - a sit stilling
A waiting - a head spacing
A surrender - a release
A long deep breath
And an unexpected end-of-the-road Peace
Here on this path, walking with the Prince

Lord, save me from empty lent abstinence
Protect me from light hearted choco-resistance
And stir in me longer-lasting adherence
A dig down deeper ringing resonance
That falls in step with your quiet insistence
to follow a path of greater resilience.

Lord, save me from a temporary temperance
And lend me your eternal Spirit of endurance
That I might take lent as a growth accelerant
And so hold my head higher
in your post-Easter presence.

Holy
Sacrifice
Purifies the profane
Our undeserved redeemer is
Sacred