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Lent 1: What a Desert Is For

February 21, 2026

Image: Gift of the WildernessImage: Gift of the Wilderness
© Jan Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Lent 1, Year A: Matthew 4:1-11

As Lent has begun, I’ve been thinking about different kinds of deserts. 

There are deserts we have chosen, and ones that we have not. There are deserts that seem devoid of life and sustenance, and ones that hold hidden wellsprings and remarkable beauty. There are deserts where we might feel completely alone, and ones where, to our surprise, help and company come to us in forms we did not expect.

Sometimes these are all the same desert, and we are the ones who become different as we travel deeper into it, able to perceive and know more clearly what the desert holds than we did when we first entered into it.

Always a desert changes us, if we allow it. And this is what Lent offers to us. This season provides a landscape that welcomes our own inner terrain: our fear, pain, and grief; our joy, solace, and hope; and the wild space within us where all of this lives together. Lent tells us that everything we carry in us—everything we carry in us—is met, held, and transformed in Love.

As we move into this season, this is a blessing for you.

Where the Breath Begins

Dry
and dry
and dry
in each direction.

Dust dry.
Desert dry.
Bone dry.

And here
in your own heart:
dry,
the center of your chest
a bare valley
stretching out
every way you turn.

Did you think
this was where
you had come to die?

It’s true that
you may need
to do some crumbling,
yes.
That some things
you have protected
may want to be
laid bare,
yes.
That you will be asked
to let go
and let go,
yes.

But listen.
This is what
a desert is for.

If you have come here
desolate,
if you have come here
deflated,
then thank your lucky stars
the desert is where
you have landed—
here where it is hard
to hide,
here where it is unwise
to rely on your own devices,
here where you will
have to look
and look again
and look close
to find what refreshment waits
to reveal itself to you.

I tell you,
though it may be hard
to see it now,
this is where
your greatest blessing
will find you.

I tell you,
this is where
you will receive
your life again.

I tell you,
this is where
the breath begins.

—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons


P.S. I want to let you know about this online event happening soon with Nazareth Retreat Center:

A CONVERSATION WITH JAN RICHARDSON
Virtual Retreat Hosted by Nazareth Retreat Center
Saturday, February 28, 2026, 2-4 pm (ET)

I am so looking forward to this online event offered by Nazareth Retreat Center on February 28! As we enter into Lent, we will explore how to notice God’s presence in the unexpected, to find grace in the quiet and in the chaos, and to embrace the unfolding mystery of life. We would love for you to join us from wherever you are!

Info & registration: https://nazarethretreatcenterky.org/programs/1939/a-conversation-with-jan-richardson.

If you have any questions, please contact Nazareth, and they will be glad to help.

_____________________


Using Jan’s artwork
To use the image Gift of the Wilderness, please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com.

Using Jan’s words
For worship services and related settings, you are welcome to use Jan’s blessings or other words from this blog without requesting permission. All that’s needed is to acknowledge the source. Please include this info in a credit line: “© Jan Richardson from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons. janrichardson.com.” For other uses, visit Copyright Permissions.

Posted in art, blessings, lectionary, Lent, poetry | Leave a Comment »

Ash Wednesday: To Ask Where Love Will Lead Us

February 17, 2026

Image: Ash Wednesday CrossImage: Ash Wednesday Cross
© Jan Richardson

Readings for Ash Wednesday: Joel 2:1-2, 12-17 or Isaiah 58:1-12; Psalm 51:1-17; 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10; Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Life will continually lay us bare, sometimes with astonishing severity. In the midst of this, the season of Lent invites us to see what is most elemental in us, what endures: the love that creates and animates, the love that cannot be destroyed, the love that is most basic to who we are. This season inspires us to ask where this love will lead us, what it will create in and through us, what God will do with it in both our brokenness and our joy.

—Jan Richardson, from Ash Wednesday: What God Can Do with Dust
The Painted Prayerbook, February 2018

_____________________


In a time when so much is crumbling, is burning, I don’t want to romanticize the ashes that come with destruction and devastation. As we approach Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent, I do want to keep asking what the Holy One can do with dust, and to keep looking for how I can be part of that. So many blessings to you, beloved ones, as the new season arrives.

Blessing the Dust

All those days
you felt like dust,
like dirt,
as if all you had to do
was turn your face
toward the wind
and be scattered
to the four corners

or swept away
by the smallest breath
as insubstantial—

did you not know
what the Holy One
can do with dust?

This is the day
we freely say
we are scorched.

This is the hour
we are marked
by what has made it
through the burning.

This is the moment
we ask for the blessing
that lives within
the ancient ashes,
that makes its home
inside the soil of
this sacred earth.

So let us be marked
not for sorrow.
And let us be marked
not for shame.
Let us be marked
not for false humility
or for thinking
we are less
than we are

but for claiming
what God can do
within the dust,
within the dirt,
within the stuff
of which the world
is made
and the stars that blaze
in our bones
and the galaxies that spiral
inside the smudge
we bear.

—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons


Using Jan’s artwork
To use the image Ash Wednesday Cross, please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com.

Using Jan’s words
For worship services and related settings, you are welcome to use Jan’s blessings or other words from this blog without requesting permission. All that’s needed is to acknowledge the source. Please include this info in a credit line: “© Jan Richardson from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons. janrichardson.com.” For other uses, visit Copyright Permissions.

Posted in art, blessings, Lent, mystery, poetry | Leave a Comment »

Blessing for the Brokenhearted

February 14, 2026

Image: Heart That Works for Repair
© Jan Richardson

I’m not sure I have words yet for all that I was thinking as I created this artwork. I can say, though, that it had to do with fragility and rending, with grace and with hope, and with the heart’s astonishing capacity to keep beating, to keep growing larger, to keep working for repair. I thought about the art of visible mending and how our wounds become part of the wholeness of our story. I thought also, as always, about those whose hearts have newly broken since this time last year, as well as those who have lived in and with and through the brokenness for a long time. For all who love and ache and love still, this blessing is for you. Every single day.

Blessing for the Brokenhearted

There is no remedy for love but to love more.
—Henry David Thoreau

Let us agree
for now
that we will not say
the breaking
makes us stronger
or that it is better
to have this pain
than to have done
without this love.

Let us promise
we will not
tell ourselves
time will heal
the wound,
when every day
our waking
opens it anew.

Perhaps for now
it can be enough
to simply marvel
at the mystery
of how a heart
so broken
can go on beating,
as if it were made
for precisely this—

as if it knows
the only cure for love
is more of it,

as if it sees
the heart’s sole remedy
for breaking
is to love still,

as if it trusts
that its own
persistent pulse
is the rhythm
of a blessing
we cannot
begin to fathom
but will save us
nonetheless.

—Jan Richardson
from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief

P.S. For reflections for Transfiguration Sunday, visit Transfiguration Sunday: When Glory.

Using Jan’s words
For worship services and related settings, you are welcome to use Jan’s blessings or other words from this blog without requesting permission. All that’s needed is to acknowledge the source. Please include this info in a credit line: “© Jan Richardson from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief. janrichardson.com.” For other uses, visit Copyright Permissions.

Posted in art, blessings, mystery, poetry | 6 Comments »

To Be Salt and Light

February 6, 2026

Image: Blessing of Salt, Blessing of Light
© Jan Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Epiphany 5, Year A: Matthew 5.13-20

Jesus’ words this week are meant to wake us, to remind us of what we carry in our bones: the living presence of the God who bids us be salt in this world in all our savory particularity; to be light in the way that only we can blaze.

—Jan Richardson, from Epiphany 5: Blessing of Salt, Blessing of Light
The Painted Prayerbook, January 2011

_____________________


You are the salt of the earth. . . . You are the light of the world, Jesus tells us in the gospel passage for this week. So this is a blessing for you, for this time, with such gratitude for you who are salt and light in this world.

Blessing of Salt, Blessing of Light

By the time you come
to the end of this blessing,
these words will be barely enough
to fit in the palm of your hand.

But fold your fingers around them
and take them
as an offering,
a sacrament,
a sign.

Touch the words
to your tongue
and taste how
they have traveled
through marrow and bone
to reach you,
how they have passed
through each chamber
of your heart,
how they have come
through the layers
that make up your soul—
the strata of stories
and questions,
longings and
dreams.

Savor the way the words
are not mere residue
or dross,
the bitter leavings
from the refining.

By their taste,
you will know instead
they are the essence,
they are the core,
they are what has come
through the burning,

holding still
the memory of fire
and the imprint of light,
holding the clarity that comes
when all that is not needful
passes away.

So take these words
as a blessing;
touch them
to your mouth
(may you taste)
your eyes
(may you see)
your ears
(may you hear)

and then let them go;
let them fall to earth
where all salt finally returns.

See the path they make
for you,
the path that blazes
inside of you,
lighting the way
ahead of you
that only you
can go.

—Jan Richardson
from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief

Using Jan’s artwork
To use the image “Blessing of Salt, Blessing of Light,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com.

Using Jan’s words
For worship services and related settings, you are welcome to use Jan’s blessings or other words from this blog without requesting permission. All that’s needed is to acknowledge the source. Please include this info in a credit line: “© Jan Richardson from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief. janrichardson.com.” For other uses, visit Copyright Permissions.

Posted in art, blessings, Epiphany, Gospel of Matthew, lectionary, poetry | 2 Comments »

New Book! How the Stars Get in Your Bones

January 12, 2026

Book: How the Stars Get in Your Bones

Beloved friends, I have a new book! There is so much I want to say about it, even as I feel tender and have the impulse to be strangely quiet about releasing it. But I want to tell you that this new book of blessings turns toward the hard things that each of us knows: the grief, loss, fear, and weariness that we live with in these days. It also invites us to perceive what makes its home here, too: the joy, solace, grace, and, most of all, the love that moves through it all, illuminating and transforming what seems most hidden or hopeless.

From my heart to yours, this book welcomes us wherever we are, offers us a space of healing for as long as we need, and calls forth our courage, that our broken heart might become a path back into the world.

To keep turning your heart
toward this unendurable earth,
knowing your heart will break
but turning it still.

I tell you,
this is how the stars
get in your bones.

—From the blessing “How the Stars Get in Your Bones”

You can find the book here: janrichardson.com/books.

As we move into this Epiphany season, I am grateful beyond measure for you, and I am sending so many blessings.

Posted in blessings, books, mystery, poetry | 15 Comments »

Announcing “The Cure for Sorrow”!

September 21, 2016

The Cure for Sorrow
A blessing meets us in the place of our deepest loss.
In that place, it gives us a glimpse of wholeness
and claims that wholeness here and now.
—from the Introduction

O my friends. I never hoped to write this book. But here it is, about to make its way into the world this fall.

The Cure for Sorrow is a book of blessings for times of grief. It is infused with everything that has been present to me in the wake of Gary’s death nearly three years ago now. The aching sorrow, the stubborn hope, the anger and bewilderment, the beauty, the wild grace, the unrelenting love: all of it intertwines on every page.

This book acknowledges that mourning is hardly a tidy process. Rather than an orderly, predictable progression of stages, grief is a horribly messy undoing of us. If we can allow ourselves to pay attention to it, grief holds the power to remake us in ways we never imagined. With blessings that speak to the rending of grief, the presence of solace, and the tenacity of hope, The Cure for Sorrow is a companion on that journey.

Most of all, this book is a gift from my broken and hopeful heart to yours. I would love to share it with you.

The Cure for Sorrow will release on November 15. You can pre-order it on Amazon by clicking the cover above or this link: The Cure for Sorrow. It’s available for pre-order in hardcover and on Kindle. On November 15, it will be available also on my website at janrichardson.com, where you will be able to order inscribed copies.

I am so grateful for the ways you continue to be a blessing on my path. Deep peace to you.

Posted in blessings, books, mystery, poetry | 15 Comments »

Announcing “Circle of Grace”!

November 20, 2015

Circle of Grace

Friends, I am delighted to share the news that my new book is here! Circle of Grace is a collection of blessings for the seasons, drawing us into the rhythms of the sacred Christian year.

The book was released on November 17—Gary’s birthday. In two weeks he will have been gone two years. And yet he is such a part of this book. He saw nearly every blessing first, and we had dreamed of this book together. His spirit sings in every page.

So from my heart, from Gary’s heart, into yours: this is for you. Each blessing and every word of it. Thank you for being so beautifully part of my—and our—circle of grace.

To order Circle of Grace: You can order the book from Amazon by clicking the book cover above or this link: Circle of Grace. It’s available in both printed and Kindle formats. Beginning Monday, November 23, the book will also be available at my website at janrichardson.com, where you can request inscribed copies.

On this day, as Advent draws near, I want to share this blessing from the book with you, in gratitude.

Drawing Near
A Blessing for Advent

It is difficult to see it from here,
I know,
but trust me when I say
this blessing is inscribed
on the horizon.
Is written on
that far point
you can hardly see.
Is etched into
a landscape
whose contours you cannot know
from here.
All you know
is that it calls you,
draws you,
pulls you toward
what you have perceived
only in pieces,
in fragments that came to you
in dreaming
or in prayer.

I cannot account for how,
as you draw near,
the blessing embedded in the horizon
begins to blossom
upon the soles of your feet,
shimmers in your two hands.
It is one of the mysteries
of the road,
how the blessing
you have traveled toward,
waited for,
ached for
suddenly appears,
as if it had been with you
all this time,
as if it simply
needed to know
how far you were willing
to walk
to find the lines
that were traced upon you
before the day
you were born.

—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace

Posted in blessings, books, lectionary, mystery, poetry, sacred time | 6 Comments »

Blessing in a Time of Violence

November 16, 2015

Holy Even in PainImage: Holy Even in Pain © Jan Richardson

For Beirut, for Kenya, for Paris, for Syria. For every place broken by violence and hatred. For every person in pain and grief. For you, from me, in sorrow and hope.

Blessing in a Time of Violence

Which is to say
this blessing
is always.

Which is to say
there is no place
this blessing
does not long
to cry out
in lament,
to weep its words
in sorrow,
to scream its lines
in sacred rage.

Which is to say
there is no day
this blessing ceases
to whisper
into the ear
of the dying,
the despairing,
the terrified.

Which is to say
there is no moment
this blessing refuses
to sing itself
into the heart
of the hated
and the hateful,
the victim
and the victimizer,
with every last
ounce of hope
it has.

Which is to say
there is none
that can stop it,
none that can
halt its course,
none that will
still its cadence,
none that will
delay its rising,
none that can keep it
from springing forth
from the mouths of us
who hope,
from the hands of us
who act,
from the hearts of us
who love,
from the feet of us
who will not cease
our stubborn, aching
marching, marching

until this blessing
has spoken
its final word,
until this blessing
has breathed
its benediction
in every place,
in every tongue:

Peace.
Peace.
Peace.

— Jan Richardson

2017 update: This blessing appears in Jan’s latest book, The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief.

Using Jan’s artwork…

To use the image “Holy Even in Pain,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. (This is also available as an art print. After clicking over to the image’s page on the Jan Richardson Images site, just scroll down to the “Purchase as an Art Print” section.) Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!

Using Jan’s words…
For worship services and related settings, you are welcome to use Jan’s blessings or other words from this blog without requesting permission. All that’s needed is to acknowledge the source. Please include this info in a credit line: “© Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com.” For other uses, visit Copyright Permissions.

Posted in art, blessings, poetry | 34 Comments »

It Is Hard Being Wedded to the Dead

October 24, 2014

River of LifeImage: River of Life © Jan Richardson

A Reading for All Saints Day: Revelation 7.9-17

The Lamb…will guide them to springs of the water of life,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.
– Revelation 7.17

For many years, I have loved the days of Halloween, All Saints, and All Souls. This trinity of days from October 31-November 2 is a sacred space in the turning of the year—what Celtic folk have long called a thin place, where past, present, and future intertwine, and the veil between worlds becomes permeable. I learned long ago that it’s important to pay attention to what happens in these days. Mostly what happens is that the days offer a window onto my life—a perspective that, however subtly, shifts how I see my path. But sometimes these days offer a doorway, a new threshold that changes everything.

Gary and I began dating on Halloween, the eve of All Saints. As our life together unfolded, the sense of crossing a sacred threshold with him, of walking together through a door of mystery, wonder, and love, never disappeared.

It seems beyond belief that this year, when our church celebrates All Saints Day, Gary’s name will be among those read in the litany of remembrance; that, as for each of the beloved ones who have died in the past year, a bell will sound for my husband, who has crossed a threshold that is beyond my reach. Yet the Feast of All Saints assures us that even here, in the depth of our grief and loss, there is a doorway, a place where the worlds touch.

As I approach this first All Saints Day since Gary’s death, I am pressing my ear to that door. In the depth of my sorrow, I am learning that Gary and I still have thresholds to cross; that mystery and wonder abide, drawing us more and more deeply into the love that has little regard for matters such as death and time.

This is a poem that came in the early days of grieving, as I was first beginning to reckon with Gary’s dying and with the love that has kept making itself known. I offer it to you as an All Saints gift, a talisman to hold onto as you remember your own beloved ones. May our love be more fierce than our grief, more enduring than our tears. Blessings.

It Is Hard Being Wedded to the Dead

It is hard
being wedded
to the dead;
they make different claims,
offer comforts
that do not feel comfortable
at the first.

They do not let you
remain numb.
Neither do they allow you
to languish forever
in your grief.

They will safeguard
your sorrow
but will not permit
that it should become
your new country,
your home.

They knew you first
in joy,
in delight,
and though they will be patient
when you travel
by other roads,
it is here
that they will wait
for you,
here they can best
be found

where the river runs deep
with gladness,
the water over each stone
singing your
unforgotten name.

– Jan Richardson


For a previous reflection on All Saints, click the image or title below.

A Gathering of Spirits
For Those Who Walked With Us

An Advent Journey…

ILLUMINATED 2014 — Registration now open!
Are you hungry for an experience that draws you into Advent without feeling like it’s just one more thing to add to your schedule? I would love for you to join us for this all-new online retreat that easily fits into the rhythm of your days. Intertwining reflection, art, music, and community, ILLUMINATED 2014 will be a great way to journey toward Christmas from anywhere you are, in the way that fits you best. Begins November 30. For info and registration, visit ILLUMINATED 2014. Group & congregational rates available.

Using Jan’s artwork…
To use the image “River of Life,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. (This is also available as an art print. After clicking over to the image’s page on the Jan Richardson Images site, just scroll down to the “Purchase as an Art Print” section.) Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!

Using Jan’s words…
For worship services and related settings, you are welcome to use Jan’s blessings or other words from this blog without requesting permission. All that’s needed is to acknowledge the source. Please include this info in a credit line: “© Jan Richardson. janrichardson.com.” For other uses, visit Copyright Permissions.

Posted in art, Celtic, lectionary, Ordinary Time, poetry, sacred time | 23 Comments »

Day 8: Who Gives Life to the Dead

February 25, 2012

And Calls Into Existence the Things That Do Not Exist
Image: And Calls Into Existence the Things That Do Not Exist
© Jan Richardson

. . . in the presence of the God in whom he believed, who gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist.
—Romans 4.17

From a lectionary reading for Lent 2: Romans 4.13-25

Reflection for Thursday, March 1 (Day 8 of Lent)

Who Quickens the Dead

Who quickeneth the dead, and calleth those things which be not as though they were. —Romans 4.17, King James Version

As if
dealing with the living
were not enough.

As if
we were ready
for what we have
released
and grieved

to suddenly wake,
open its eyes,
and turn its face
toward us again.

As if
we believed
the hand that
wakes the dead
could wake us.

As if
the voice
that calls
into being
what does not exist
could call to us.

As if
we could let it.

—Jan Richardson

This reflection is part of the series “Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.” If you’re new to the series, welcome! You can visit the first post, Teach Me Your Paths: Entering Lent, to pick it up from the beginning.

[To use the image “And Calls Into Existence the Things That Do Not Exist,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Posted in art, lectionary, Lent, poetry | 1 Comment »

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