Let Pentecost Live on Monday

Today is Monday,
Let today be the first day
of the rest of your life.

Let this be the day we name as holy —
not because we’re ready,
but because we showed up anyway.

Because we keep showing up.

So let’s begin
again and again
with the first day of the rest of your life.

Let it begin —
not with tongues of fire,
but with one hand reaching
and one heart whispering —
“Still here.”

Or maybe you’re ready
to sing it
like a rooster cracking the dawn:
Cock-a-doodle-doo
Hallelujah I’m alive
I’m on fire

Keep the ember burning, beloveds.
Let each day begin like warm spice.
Break this fast with something holy.
Let the Spirit arrive —
like cinnamon in fruit,
quiet sweetness
that makes the ordinary sacred.

A little flame to carry
’till the sun is high and burning.
The flavor of Christmas.

Let Pentecost be not just the speaking,
but the understanding.
The way your daughter says “cereal,”
Even in this, in you as you unfold from sleep,
the world rearranges itself to love her better.

Let the garden remember the weight of us —
how you leaned into the Holy One,
the flame who does not flicker away.

Let the flame be not demand,
but delight!

Light is the work,
Light is our joy,
Light is the song you are becoming.

And when the wind rises again,
as it always will,
let it find us wrapped around each other —
a flame that does not burn up,
Love our simplest language.

Written after reflecting on John 13:31–35