"and craved the body of Jesus..."

"he went boldly unto Pilate,
and craved the
body of Jesus...

and he bought fine linen,
and took him down,
and wrapped
him in the linen..."


this is my weeping place,
my holy,
healing,
resting place...

this is the place I go
when it's time
to shatter the
ego's obsession with self
and sense.

this model of
courage, and
humility,

and, oh such grace

I seek
to be the man,
the woman,
who
craves the body
of Jesus...

to crave,
yearn,
long,
and
ache for the body,
the collective moments,
of him who bore
world's weight
on that friendless day

of him
who was willing to
give all
for me,
for mine,
for them,
and for each of us
ever more
and all eternity.

To be
like Joseph of
Arimathea,
so fearless in the face of Pilate's company,
so bold
before their wrath,
to have no pride,
to be willing to identify himself with the Christ,
when even his nearest and dearest
were denying
they even knew him...

to choose the linen,
and to wind the cloth,
just so...

to tenderly fashion a
chysalis of dignity,
respect, sublime silence,
and gentle care...

i want to be this

more than anything, I want
to be this....

to boldy claim
my desire for him

to crave
the embodied Christ,
the
body of
his life's purpose
as my own...

to crave,
in every tear,
in every whispered shame,
in the lowered eye,
and yes,
when stooped in sorrow

to crave the
body of
Jesus

to hunger for the symbol,
the form,
the written
message,
the Word made flesh,
the substance of He
who dwelt among us

to boldly ask,

to be like
him

Joseph of
Arimethea...