We are underwater.
Let there be a Rock that is higher.
We are weary and worn.
Let there be a Peace beyond understanding.
We are frustrated, impatient.
Let there be a Seed in every season.
We are heartbroken.
Let there be a Fire to gather us together.
We are frantic, anxious, scattered.
Let there be a Plumb Line that remains steady.
For the sake of our salvation,
O Most Inscrutable God,
let there be metaphors.
Listen to the roar
of your people’s prayers,
O Holy Lamb,
as our spirits growl
with hunger for your healing.
Bend your woolly ear in sympathy
as these great egos of dust
mew for comfort.
We ask:
do not mind
our snarls or teeth,
for in deep pain and distress
we have become
territorial;
in our woundedness,
we have stalked your grace
as though it’s the enemy.
O Lamb of God,
fold us
into your flock
in an answer to prayer.
o my soul,
do not keep quiet
your deep confession
cry aloud your daily failure
to love the life of your neighbor
beat your breast before the throne
that you have tried to be god
toll your heart’s bells
until they awaken
repentance