A poetic reflection on the readings for Lent 5B by The Rev. Crystal Karr
She called it building character.
I call it pain. I call it death.
He said it would redeem me
but I wasn’t so sure, it felt like a lot to ask.
To die in order to live,
what kind of joke is that?
How am I supposed to die?
By whose hands?
Will it hurt? How long will the pain last?
Why must the important ones
always be so damned hard to learn?
Why not like a simple math problem
Life lesions just seem to suck.
Immersed in pain
and yet it seems that
some of us feel more pain than others.
When grandpa died
she began to live.
Is that what you mean?
His anger, his berating mouth
So she lives? Her life becomes
lively once more, friends begin to call
she buys a new car, red.
Fire engine red. Red.
She became free perhaps
for the very first time.
Or is it deciding that I’m willing to live
rather than die for my kids.
Or is it taking the death
that he forced upon me
and finding strength to rise;
not just go on but to
fly and find those who have also faced death and lived, helping them to fly.