The tree shall whisper thanks
for the wind by which it dances
though its roots cannot be moved.

The dove shall coo thanks
for the small nourishing seed
that has blown so far from flower.

The rock shall be still in thanks
for the quiet stream pooling past it
and softening its hardest points & edges.

The violet shall radiate thanks
for the taller grasses that shelter it
from the harsh noonday sun.

The seagull shall clamor thanks
for the tide that bears salty morsels
and swells the breeze for flight.

The field shall murmur thanks
for the summer rain that gently
bends the hay and soaks the earth.

And I shall collapse in thanks
for all good gifts of creation
and all sweet joys of love in life.


I am willing not to know, O God. By which I mean, damn I don’t know at all, so let me make peace with it anyway. By which I mean, thank goodness you are God and I am not. By which I mean, patience is overrated. By which I mean, I am overwhelmingly grateful for your grace. By which I mean, it’d be so much better if I knew. By which I mean, your endless capacity for creativity is amazing. By which I mean, I hate surprises. By which I mean, thank you for all that is yet to be. Amen.

Advent: Paying Attention

the heartache
the weariness
the “to do” list
the brokenness
the starling with its beautiful iridescence tapping at our window, seeking a shelter from the winter wind

the frustration
the guilt
the fear
the news
the faraway line of white seagulls over the lake, dodging cold winter waves and then diving for their catch

the questions
the struggle
the fight
the disbelief
the hand-carved ship ready to set sail from my Christmas tree branch where it hangs, eager for adventure

the limitations
the grief
the longing
the disappointment
the short fat snowman rolled together on a bitterly cold day, because who can (or should) quell the determination of youth?

find us, most merciful God,
through the joys and the strains alike
with beauty so simple and good news so plain
that our heads are lifted and our tongues are loosened to sing.

on Psalm 27:5-6

Sunday Prayer: Beginning Again

For the hope that You can bring about a new thing,
for the knowledge that You have already done it:
we give thanks with a deep breath.

For the ways that we have walked and wandered,
for the journeys that You set before us now:
we give thanks with a deep breath.

For the many tears that have marked these days and years,
for the friends and the grace that have dried them:
we give thanks with a deep breath.

For the return of the Word in flesh, in love, in glory,
for the Echo that calls us ever onward,
we give thanks with a deep breath.

For the dance that calls us to rest from work,
for the shout of lament that returns us to the work again,
we give thanks and we take a deep breath.

For snow and fog and rain that seem to slow our worlds,
for flood, storm and quake that tremble the earth,
we give thanks and we take a deep breath.

For light that reveals truth and comforts fear,
for shadows that allow questions and welcome seekers,
we give thanks with a deep breath.

For all that we have learned by head and heart,
for all that we do not know and for surprises still to come,
we give thanks with a deep & humble breath.

For every beginning, each new dawn and each new calendar,
for every end, beyond which You always remain,
we give thanks with a deep breath.

For faith and proclamation,
for doubt and despair,
we give thanks
and with a deep breath
we trust that You are in all & through all,
full of grace and healing and love and power. Amen.

cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals