It is not so much about you is it, O God.
It is, at least, as much about us.
Our prayers that is.
And our praying.
Our remembering and our naming.
Our please and our thank you.
Those moments when our hearts break open a bit more.
When we pull others and the world just a bit closer.
Those times when we risk bearing the pain and struggles of another.
And, layer our gratitude on top of the gratitude of another until our hearts and theirs overflow.
And, so we pray, O God.
Sometimes with words.
Sometimes with sighs to deep for words.
Sometimes with our tears.
Sometimes stopped in our tracks by beauty and grace.
However we can or do,
In this moment, our prayers for the world entrusted now to our care and keeping.
Praying, too, that our lives follow where our prayers first lead.
Believing that to be true, O God, we remember.
We remember all who find themselves in need this day.
The people of Houston and Florida.
The people of the Caribbean and the Northwest.
The people of Mexico and Syrian and the refugees from Myanmar.
To say nothing of the needs that land so close to home.
A friend with cancer.
A colleague whose mother has died.
A neighbor who has lost his job.
Break open our hearts so that there might be room in our lives for their need and their sorrow and their hunger and their searching. We remember.
And, we remember those whose prayer this day is Thank you.
For the kindness of strangers and all who step forward to help.
For food enough and for a safe place to be.
For love expressed in the exchange of vows.
For water sprinkled on a tiny head.
Break open our hearts, O God, as we add our gratitude to theirs.
And, we remember Your presence with us.
Allowing you to mark our lives that we might find strength and hope.
Allowing you to mark our lives that we might be Your presence to others.|
We remember, O God.
It is not as if you come only when we call, O God.
You are, in fact, present in each moment we have.
And, in all the moments we have.
As intimate and as close as the next breath we take.
It is more that we pause long enough to be reminded
And, to remind ourselves
Of Your abiding presence.
So, may this moment be one of those moments, O God.
When we stop long enough to allow our hope and our sorrow;
Our joy and our fear;
Ourselves and each other;
To be held, for a moment, in a deep awareness of Your presence.
We pray for all that has been entrusted to our care and keeping.
For those whom we love and those who we know.
For those with power and those without.
For those who are broken and those who rise up in hope.
For those who struggle for their daily bread and those who wage peace.
And for all those others we would name in this moment.
Into your hands, O God.
And, as always O God, may our lives follow where our prayers first lead.
Help me to look into the eyes
And to see the faces
Of those whose lives intersect mine today.
Catching a glimpse of the Holy
That I otherwise might miss in my haste.
Help me to pull into this passing moment
Those whom I love
In the sacredness of this moment.
Help me to remember
That each moment
Holds the potential for either good
Or tearing down.
May I chose wisely and well.
Help me be mindful of my own life.
Both fragile and strong.
Given to me this day as a gift.
That gratitude might weave its way through each moment.
Help me, O God.
I subscribe to a daily reflection/prayer written by the Rev. Steve Garness-Holmes.
If you are interested here is his website.
A couple days ago, he wrote this…
We don’t hide from the cries of the oppressed.
We dare to listen for God there.
We are not afraid of the world’s sorrows.
Their agonies are the seeds of our compassion.
We are not drawn into the violence of cowards.
We are fearless in our love.
We do not need the fortifications of the privileged.
We are unafraid to live in the world.
We are not intimidated.
We entrust ourselves to the Crucified and Risen One.
We are not discouraged on the road
That winds to justice and does not end short.
May it be so.
Help us to be there, O God.
At least as close as we can get.
Somewhere among the crowd who shout hosanna and wave their palm branches. Somewhere in that upper room as bread is broken and wine is poured and a meal is shared. Somewhere in that garden with it anguished prayer and sleepy disciples. To the betrayal and the denial and the trial before Pilate.
To the cross.
Help us to find our way through these days before us that we might also find our way to the promises of the resurrection. Amen.