Lent: Day Forty

I looked for God, and found Him in the grave,
Guarded by soldiers, sealed by stone and seal;
What hope have we that God can truly save?
For God is dead, that One who was most real.
Our Savior lies entombed and wrapped in cloth,
And now we wait for—what? We do not know.
We wait—yet Jesus' death has cut a swath
Through hope, and we do not know where to go.
We wait for something, hoping even still,
As on this Sabbath day our Lord lies dead;
Our hope's not gone, for hope is hard to kill.
And so we wait, not knowing what's ahead.
O, you who wait, take heart! All is not done,
But simply hope in that almighty One.

Lent: Day Thirty-seven

I looked for God, and found Him loving sinners;
That is, the ones who know that they are so,
Who never go to Pharisaic dinners
Where only the self-righteous chance to go.
He loved the ones whom others had cast off:
The prostitute who washed Him with perfume
Though Pharisees were much inclined to scoff,
And tax collector lifted out of gloom.
Just three more days of Lent: the time approaches
When Christ shall suffer all for sinners' sake
And free us from our sin, which so encroaches;
And from our death He then shall us awake.
Yes, all have sinned, and all deserve God's wrath,
And yet He loves us; He, the truest path.

Lent: Day Thirty-three

I looked for God, and found Him in His people;
In church, in homes, in schools, and in vocations,
Wherever we are found, beneath a steeple
Or out among the world and its temptations.
The Lord is near wherever we may be,
For He has come to dwell in all our hearts
And from our sin at last to set us free
Through His almighty Spirit's healing arts.
These days of Lent, now thirty-three, remind
That God came down in bodied form as well;
Come, Lord, and be with us, with all mankind,
And by Thy presence all our sin dispel.
O, haste that day with golden streets and towers
When God will dwell among us, and be ours!

Lent: Day Twenty

I looked for God, and found Him in our death
When we at last give up our fragile ghost
And breathe our last, forsaking now that breath
Which God first breathed, that we may never boast.
For we are mortal, falling back to dust
From which we came, that dry and filthy stuff.
But You are with us, Lord, Thou good and just;
O, You alone are more than good enough.
Now half of Lent is gone, and Easter nears;
Come save us, Lord, for we are lost in sin,
And sin brings us to death, and many tears;
But You, O Lord, are life to us within.
In life, in death, O Lord, be Thou my stay,
And when I die, come light me on my way.

Lent: Day Fifteen

I looked for God, and found Him in the smell
Of flowers, smell of earth, and smell of rain:
That petrichor which permeates my cell
Of drywall, stucco, stone, and windowpane.
You find Your way into my sheltered life
And wake me up with sharp and fragrant scents,
For You're the sweetest smell amid the strife
On earth, where fallen man doth pitch his tents.
Now fifteen days of Lent have passed me by
And You have woken me to life from death.
Thy incense filled my nostril, stung my eye;
Thy Spirit has restored my failing breath.
In smells of earth I found You; take me higher,
To fragrances of heaven, to holy fire.