Life from Death’s Baptismal Waters
There she sat
on a bar stool
next to a small café table
lights bright
room quiet
except for her breath
shared through words
I don’t remember what
she preached
The passage slips my mind
But the room was full
The eyes of the women
in attendance were fixed
Mesmerized
I think they sensed it
as much as she did
Something shifted in her that night
That long dreaded overflow of anxiety
to speak before others
turned into a grace
to be present with others
to speak into others
A perfectly practiced and timed
twenty-minute sermon
turned into a thirty-seven minute
kick off your sandals
saunter on holy ground
movement through verse
thought
and perspective
punctuated with perfectly timed silence and
words spoken at the pace of Grace
resting upon and within
the hearts of those present
There was no familiar, fear-filled
feeling of nausea
within her
Only a transcendent deep peace
a profound calm
that she was exactly who she was to be
if only in that moment
where the waters of the Jordan
dripped gently off her limbs
For soon after
she was led into the desert
to be stripped bare of
hopes
dreams
ego
and understanding
of Church
and community
and oppressive theology
Her position of a backstage leader
who set up chairs
and tossed out
lipstick-stained disposable coffee cups
week after week
was relegated to
an outside of the building presence
left to roam
search
wait
and wait
in the now for the next
In the desert’s now
she’s learning
new language
and gaining new perspective
She no longer sees the world
The Church
God
Or herself through conservative evangelical-colored glasses
In the now
she understands
the humbling mercy
of self-awareness
of un-defended-ness
forged in the indifference
of fierce landscapes
along the enduring journey
such becoming requires
It is a journey of death
that leads to life
Once taken by Jesus
through the streets of Jerusalem
and up the hill of Golgotha
to the pinnacle
where steel and wood
pierced bone and blood
to punctuate the
Divine’s words
“I love this world so much that…
Even in this horror
I AM here
Even in your horror
I AM here
Be patient
Life is coming”
And so, she waits
in silence
And waits
in attentiveness
And waits
with nothing left to lose
for a time to come
when she will sit once again
on a bar stool
by a café table
kick off her sandals
and unfold Word
and Wonder
through linguistic color, shape, and texture
to cast new vision
about death
loss
and grief
so, others called to die on that
grief-covered Golgotha hill may
discover new life, too.[1] [2]
[1] Simon Walker. The Undefended Leader: Leading with Nothing to Lose. (Carlisle, CA: Piquant Editions Ltd., 2010) 251-261.
[2] Content also influenced by Edwin Friedman’s Failure of Nerve and Belden C. Lane’s The Solace of Fierce Landscapes.
12 responses to “Life from Death’s Baptismal Waters”
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Cmon!
What a story of a remarkable pilgrimage. What a gift it has been to participate in the waning moments of this particular journey.
Onward!
Grateful for your companionship on this journey. Thank you for seeing me and cheering me on along the way:)
It’s always a privilege to hear you speak of your journey, Darcy. I think each of us also waits with you in anticipation of the day when you sit on that barstool again.
“The Road Goes Ever On” and I can’t wait to see where those paths lead you.
You all will definitely be some of the first to know where the path leads. Thankful to be journeying along with you!
Holy Ground my dear friend. Thank you for sharing!
I love the imagery of the desert being both a place of death and the rebirth of learning.
I think the realization that the desert holds the beauty of life and death is one of the greatest gifts I’ve been given. It has taught me to rest in paradox rather than try to reconcile opposite truths. Thank you for walking on holy ground with me.
I echo the rest of these gentlemen. You are a gift to us all – of sincerity, tenacity, curiosity, and grace.
The feeling is mutual. I’m so grateful for each of you. Learning alongside you has renewed my hope in the Church and reminded me God is still working for good in this broken world. Thank you for being faithful to the call on your life. Your dedication encourages me to steady on.
This rocks, Darcy. It would hold up on its own, but having had the privilege of the journey over the last 18 months, it means even more. I saw an ad for a t-shirt that said “I’m not the imposter.” You never were, but just in case you needed a reminder, your voice is a gift to our group and the greater work.
Thank you, John. What a gift it has been to travel these DMin roads with you over the past 18 months. I’m so grateful for the space to work out my leadership wanderings amongst each of you. In countless ways, you all inspire me to lean in, trust the process, and continue to grow.
Jesus promised, ‘in this world you will have trouble.’
Wow, how we succumb to the trouble, becoming it.
Or, how we rise up to resist it.
‘Take heart,’ he reassures.
‘I have overcome the world.’
Indeed, He has. Such glory and grace! And so we steady on…