We are nearly at the end of Lent. Out second locked down Lent. The discipline of waiting and the waiting of discipleship in this season is nearly at an end.
We are unsure how close we are to the end of a year of lockdowns. Methodist Churches in Northern Ireland are allowed to resume in person worship from tomorrow, although on my circuit we have symbolically deferred it to Easter Day, offering a series of "Holy Week at Home" services online, but our sisters and brothers in the Republic of Ireland have a further, as yet undetermined time to wait... and France has now just gone into a 3rd lockdown, perhaps auguring more to come for us.
We are weary.
And tonight's poem speaks into that weariness. It is human. It is part of the story of Christ's passion, and how his followers let him down because of that weariness.
And we still do.