“Into thy hands, I commend my spirit”
aren’t just words spoken long ago/
aren’t just a theory of what we as

Christians are supposed to do/aren’t
just lip service said during a worship
service when we might be thinking

more about where to stop for lunch
than giving it all up, but now, in these
days of immanent existential mortality,

theory gives way to praxis or in a more
sophisticated way to say, where the
rubber meets the road. This isn’t the

moment we’ve waited for as the song
goes;  (let this cup pass) this could be
the moment of our greatest woes. In any

event, this is the moment of letting go,
entrusting, detaching, scuttling desire
and things to acquire and embracing

the void, shouting “My God, my God,
why have you forsaken me?” and
with open hands simply concluding

“Into thy hands, I commend my spirit….”