“I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.”
God, what coin of you
is buried in me?
What gifts have you given me
that I have interred,
rolled a stone over?
What skill or passion, grace or yearning,
have I hidden away in fear?
What is the breath of your Spirit in me
that I neglect?
What is the fear that binds me?
What am I afraid of?
Is it real?
What if I were to spend myself for you,
to put your treasure in me to use?
What would that be like?
Would you, the Giver of My Life,
not be pleased?
lend me your shovel.
—November 16, 2017