Our Feet, a Poem for the Way

Friday Field Trips

Welcome to Friday Field Trips, a second serving of words and water for paid subscribers to Wednesdays at the Well. I am so glad you’re here. To experience the full adventure consider becoming a paid subscriber today!

It is Good Friday. The day Christianity remembers the violent crucifixion of Jesus. As a child I couldn’t understand what was good about it. And explanations from adults only made me more confused. If I’m honest, I still don’t get it. Not really. But I’ve become less uncomfortable with not knowing.

This Lent has felt heavier. I’ve felt the emotions more deeply. I’ve allowed myself to feel them all. Feel the sadness. The grief. The anger. The disappointment. The doubt. The fear. The abandonment. The world is a tomb. Death is overwhelming. Questions about our individual and collective futures are all consuming.

For me, the emotions that bubble from my spirit turn into words on the page. Poetry is my release. And sharing poetry with folks like you is part of my journey of healing and creating and imagining a different way.

Below is a poem called “Our Feet.” I wrote this several years ago and share it again, as it captures so many of the experiences of Holy Week. Bridging the meal and foot washing of Maundy Thursday with the profound loss of Good Friday.

Read or listen. And then hold space whatever memories or feelings come to the surface for you. Don’t analyze them. Or judge them. Or try to rush through them. Or push them away. Just allow them to be.