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Wilderness and Wings
 
 

Beloved friends,

And the angels waited on him. (Mark 1:13)

Those words never fail to hearten me. Each time we cross the threshold into Lent, I am reminded once again that at the end of his desert sojourn--after the fasting and praying, after the wrestling and waiting--Jesus is met with angels. It's a beautiful image as we enter into this season, whose desert landscape can make these days seem dauntingly stark. Yet the angels in this story invite us to remember that even in the deepest wilderness, there are graces that come to attend us, to bless us, and to sustain us on our way.

As we move through this season, I pray you will be attended by such graces on your Lenten path. On my own path, one of the places I'll be looking for those desert graces is at The Painted Prayerbook, where I'm offering new reflections during Lent. I would be delighted to have your company there! The latest post, a reflection for the second Sunday of Lent, is titled Secret Medicine. We're celebrating the tenth anniversary of The Painted Prayerbook this year, and I am tremendously grateful for you who have been part of that journey.

In these days, may you be met with what you most need. May it sweeten your path and sustain you on your way. Blessings to you as this season unfolds.  
 
Peace, 
 
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Jan Richardson
The Wellspring Studio, LLC
janrichardson.com 
  
 

AT THE PAINTED PRAYERBOOK 
 
In this tenth anniversary year at The Painted Prayerbook, I'm offering new reflections for Lent and also gathering up some treasures for you from across the past decade. I would love to have your company there as this season unfolds.

Visit The Painted Prayerbook
 

CONNECTING
 
These days, one of the best places to find me is at my author page on Facebook. If we're not already connected there, I'd be so glad for that to happen! You can find the page and give it a like at this link: Jan Richardson
 

Desert Prayer

I am not asking you
to take this wilderness from me,
to remove this place of starkness
where I come to know
the wildness within me,
where I learn to call the names
of the ravenous beasts
that pace inside me,
to finger the brambles
that snake through my veins,
to taste the thirst
that tugs at my tongue.

But send me
tough angels,
sweet wine,
strong bread:
just enough.

 

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