UUCC, I wrote Prayers for the People for you three years ago, and I’m struck with how resonant it feels again here at the end of another August. I love you.
My recent days’ schedules have been especially full with work responsibilities and back-to-school activities and celebrations of milestones in loved ones’ lives. I’m grateful to have so many meaningful things to do. AND it has felt a little bit hectic.
Today I remembered the story of the religious teacher who said they were in the habit of praying for an hour every morning … unless the day was expected to be especially full, in which case they’d pray for two hours. Counter-intuitive, perhaps, and very wise. It’s precisely during these full / busy / hectic times that we need to access the sources of our strength and to give mindful attention to that which grounds us.
So, this afternoon I walked outside into the gorgeous sunshine and low humidity to remind myself that there’s more to this life and this work than what I can access from this air-conditioned 10’x16′ room.
I spent a few minutes sitting on the low wall by the flower garden in front of OBIC, and I thought of you. And, in my own way, I prayed for you—for each of us, and for all of us. Not so much in words, but in turning my attention toward you in affection.
So, now, here I sit, giving less-than-adequate words to that affection, and yet sharing them with you, anyway:
Spirit of life and love,
May we have moments in which we experience sheer wonder at the beauty of this world—the flowers, the bees, the sunshine,
the people, their art, their laughter, their tears.
May we have the strength to weather the figurative and literal storms.
May we have the humility to say, “I don’t know.” “I was wrong.” “I’m sorry.”
May we have the courage to take the risks that contain promise of growth.
May we share of our own bounty and accept the gifts of others.
May we know that we are, unequivocally, beloved.
And may our love be forever stronger than our fear.
In the name of all that is holy, Amen.
With abiding affection,