Holy One, Shock and save me with the terrible goodness of this Friday, And drive me deep into my longing for your kingdom Until I seek it first- Yet not first for myself, But for the hungry And the sick And the poor of your children, For prisoners of conscience around the world, For those I have wasted With my racism And sexism And ageism And nationalism And religionism, For those around this mother earth and in this city Who, this Friday, know far more of terror than of goodness; That, in my seeking first the kingdom, For them as well as for myself, All these things may be mine as well: Things like a coat and courage And something like comfort, A few lilies in the field, The sight of birds soaring on the wind, A song in the night, And gladness of heart, The sense of your presence And the realization of your promise That nothing in life or death Will be able to separate me or those I love, From you love In the crucified one who is our Lord, And in whose name and Spirit I pray.
As we take our first steps out of the darkness that eclipsed with the Winter Solstice, we experience how nature continues to direct our rhythms and remind us of new life sprouting from the darkness.
I don’t know about you, but I have received my word for 2019 This word, or thought, will become my guide and constant reminder this year. It will help me stay on track, say yes to the right things, and no to the wrong things.
Mostly, it reminds me that no matter what may happen, I am co-creating my life with God which deserves my passionate attention.
My prayer to launch the year is from Ted Loder. It’s real, beautiful, painful and an invitation to journey outside the God-box so many live in. I feel like it describes where I have been and where I long to go. May it speak to your soul as it does mine.
God of history and my heart, so much has happened to me during these whirlwind days: I’ve known death and birth; I’ve been brave and scared; I’ve hurt, I’ve helped; I’ve been honest, I’ve lied; I’ve destroyed, I’ve created; I’ve been with people, I’ve been lonely; I’ve been loyal, I’ve betrayed; I’ve decided, I’ve waffled; I’ve laughed, I’ve cried. You know my frail heart and my frayed history– and now another day begins.
O God, help me to believe in beginnings and in my beginning again, no matter how often I’ve failed before.
Help me to make beginnings: to begin going out of my weary mind into fresh dreams, daring to make my own bold tracks in the land of now; to begin forgiving that I may experience mercy; to begin questioning the unquestionable that I may know truth; to begin disciplining that I may create beauty; to begin sacrificing that I may accomplish justice; to begin risking that I may make peace; to begin loving that I may realize joy.
Help me to be a beginning for others, to be a singer to the songless, a storyteller to the aimless, a befriender of the friendless; to become a beginning of hope for the despairing, of assurance for the doubting, of reconciliation for the divided; to become a beginning of freedom for the oppressed, of comfort for the sorrowing, of friendship for the forgotten; to become a beginning of beauty for the forlorn, of sweetness for the soured, of gentleness for the angry, of wholeness for the broken, of peace for the frightened and violent of the earth.
Help me to believe in beginnings, to make a beginning, to be a beginning, so that I may not just grow old, but grow new each day of this wild, amazing life you call me to live with the passion of Jesus Christ.
