It is too much, O God, even on the good days:
too much to hold love and imagination,
too much to hold injustice and despair.
Will you hold us?
Will you hold it all
so that we can lay down
everything we believed ourselves able to carry?
Yours is time, O God our Call and our Creator.
Yours our birth and
yours our death.
Yours our struggle and
yours our seasons.
Yours is every breath, O God our Strength and our Rest.
Yours our bones and
yours our flesh.
Yours our labor and
yours our wonder.
Yours is vindication, O God our Hope and our Law.
Yours our suffering and
yours our testimony.
Yours our cursing and
yours our song.
It is too much, O God, because we are not god.
This life needs love and imagination
to face the injustice and despair.
Will you hold us?
Will you hold it all
so that we can lay down
everything we believed ourselves able to carry?
cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals