Genesis
Genesis
Lauren J. Lund
New Day.
6 AM.
The sun rose above him as he passed Penuel, and he was limping because of his hip.
Hatching slow into the morning,
I fumble for my glasses so that
I can see.
Cool air passes through my lips.
I’m too tired to pray
After a night of wrestling God.
Finally,
A small whisper comes to me:
Shhh, Shhh,
Baby
We made it through the night
Morning.
7 AM.
So Jacob called the place Penuel, saying, ‘It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.
Just let the sun creep over the skyline;
Watch until the burning light bursts forth without filter.
Real Glory will blind us all.
Hope.
8 AM.
As long as the earth endures,
Seed time and Harvest,
Cold and Heat,
Summer and Winter,
Day and Night
will never cease.
Like the newborns in Spring
Lay down in puddles of sun,
Anytime you can:
Shake off the old you,
And feel hopeful.
Meditate.
9 AM.
He went out to the field one evening to meditate, and as he looked up, he saw the camels approaching.
Walking around the backyard with a cup of steaming coffee,
My wild hair cries out to God.
I am trying not to wonder where my camels are.
Waking Slow.
10 AM.
The Lord appeared to Abraham near the great trees of Mamre while he was sitting at the entrance to his tent in the heat of the day.
Imagine what the cold mud felt like
In Moses’s toes
As he stood in-between two walls of sea.
To stand in that water-tunnel
Of glory
And hear God say,
“Just walk towards me.”
Working.
11 am.
‘You will certainly not die,’ the serpent said to the woman.
I still try to take control of the plane
Even though I crash it every time.
Letting go is the only way to stay alive.
Lunch.
Noon.
And Abel also brought an offering – fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock.
That is how you Love,
Skimming the creamy fat off the top of the fresh milk
And offering it to the smallest ones first.
That is how you feed God,
Skimming the creamy fat off the top of the fresh milk
And offering it to the least of these,
Wiping the blood off her newborn brow.
Persevere.
1 PM.
The Lord had said to Abram, ‘Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.’
Leaving father
Wasn’t hard
But this desert is harder
Than I ever thought it could be.
Where will I finally lay down in the cool dirt, wipe it
Across my forehead and
Whisper out loud:
Whose idea was it
To put bodies in the kingdom?
Concentrate.
2 PM.
He said, ‘if I have found favor in your eyes, my lord, do not pass your servant by.’
A yellow rose bush is unbothered,
folding open like a packet of butter
with regal petals
full of soft grace and
Plainly true.
I wish God would turn me into one.
Breathe.
3 PM.
After this, the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision: ‘Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield, your very great reward.’
Like Job, I have been pierced by the arrows of the Almighty,
But I’m too shy to claim a reward.
How do I even grab hold of something like that:
“DO NOT BE AFRAID.”
God is my reward?
Does life get easier?
Do I get stronger?
I remember serving lunch at the Daily Bread
Her big brown eyes came up to me and she asked,
“Can I have it all?”
Endure.
4 PM.
The angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert […] and he said, ‘Hagar, slave of Sarai, where have you come from and where are you going’
When I was younger,
I used to wonder how people without arms took communion.
I was worried they’d be forgotten.
If God can find Hagar, can he find us too?
Hungry people make me feel like
Jesus must be on his way.
Collecting.
5 PM.
But Lot’s wife looked back, and she became a pillar of salt.
There’s a painting at the art museum called “Lot’s Wife,”
And it is full of sadness, --
A mess,
A dirty palate
Full of grey and white
-- cut through.
Incomplete.
Like life without God.
Looking back…
I did it once,
But God didn’t turn me into salt.
Now I get to be a human
and do what we do best,
Try Again.
Meal.
6 PM.
So Abraham hurried into the tent to Sarah, ‘Quick,’ he said, ‘get 3 seahs of the finest flour and knead it and bake some bread.’
I am jealous of Abraham and the way he got to bake bread for God.
Why wait for manna when you can invite the answers straight into
Your kitchen.
Sundown.
7 PM.
So Sarah laughed to herself as she thought , ‘After I am worn out and my lord is old, will I now have this pleasure?’
That’s just how God works,
Isn’t it?
We will all be wrinkly and old,
Fat and happy,
Wearing purple and
Eating jars of frosting with spoons,
And God is just going to roll up
to enjoy it with us
In all His splendor.
Maybe we can only
really
enjoy it then anyhow.
Caretaking.
8 PM.
Adam named his wife Eve because she would become the mother of all the living.
A house full of children
Bringing light
With their muddy shoes, and
The toilet someone forgot to flush.
The broken window and the dishes in the sink
Tell me that
Life is still growing out of our imperfect mess.
Sleep Evades.
9 PM.
‘The fire and wood are here,’ Isaac said, ‘but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’
Isaac had no idea he was supposed to be killed,
Right?
I, too, am scared
To let God be a father
Because where was mine when faith was needed most?
Sleep.
10 PM.
As the sun was setting, Abram fell into a deep sleep and a thick and dreadful darkness came over him.
One time I had a dream
That I was surrounded by a thousand sticky black shadows
And then
A pair of sandaled feet
And a modest but flaming sword
Came to stand by my side.
9 months later,
I was in labor and
A tornado came to Virginia.
There were declining heartbeats and signs of lost life,
But then Jesus came into my hospital room.
He was wearing a dark grey cloak;
He was serious as He said,
“Do not be afraid.”
Empty.
11 pm.
Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
Do you know what it feels like
To cry so hard
That there is no sound?
It’s a prayer only God can hear.
Trouble.
Midnight.
In the 60th year of Noah’s life, on the 17th day, the springs of the great deep burst forth, and the floodgates of the heavens were opened.
The rain doesn’t make me sad.
Mother spirit
she knows what I am trying to say
and so she shows the world
with violent storms.
Desperate.
1 AM.
Cain said to the Lord, ‘My punishment is more than I can bear.’
When you’ve lost everything
And don’t know how to tell your family,
You turn on the shower
And pray God will wash you down the drain.
The winter trees bend over
Burdened with ice and snow;
They snap,
And I nod in agreement.
Pleading.
2 AM.
Save me, I pray […] for I am afraid.
Remember when,
Before Jacob became Israel,
He asked God to tell him His name?
God, please
Look at me the way I see my children
When we are at the market,
And I’m shouting,
“Just stay by me.”
Surrender.
3 AM.
Abram fell face down.
My Grandpa used to pray for me.
He taught art for 40 years,
And about the apocalypse also.
He worried about me the most, he said.
But in the end, he got very skinny,
And I think he saw that I only cared
About the parts of this world
That sang of the next.
Peace.
4 AM.
When the dove returned to him in the evening, there in its beak was a freshly plucked olive leaf!
It makes me want to cry,
The thought of how it must have felt
To be in the damp, cold, dark for so long,
Surrounded by water and death,
And maybe the disappointment of everyone you know,
And then –
This bird shows up with green:
A freshly plucked olive leaf!
Could we all be standing soon?
Arms outstretched behind us as we close our eyes into the glaring sun,
Coughing as we breathe in fresh air?
Rest.
5 AM.
When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, ‘surely the lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.’
Once, my pastor told me in passing
To “get some rest,”
But I took it as a command,
A blessing, - even.
When I go to bed,
I think of Jacob’s Ladder
And I ask God
To please let me in.
Lauren J. Lund
Teacher and Writer
Lauren is a wife, a mother of three, and a dedicated Professor of English. Despite her love for the classroom, her favorite work is done for the writing center at the largest community college in Cleveland. She has been published in Patheos and Mothering Beyond Expectations. She is currently back in graduate school for counseling and is working on her first non-fiction book.
Photography by Bruno Emmanuelle