there are days the only thing I can do is say – ‘keep going’. It is good to know I am not alone . Enjoy…
Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night,
and give your angels charge over those who sleep.
Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary,
bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted,
shield the joyous; and all for your love’s sake. Amen.
May we be aware of all who journey through these nights working, watching and weeping. For the caregivers, the doctors, the nurses and the chaplains who stand by the bed of those who are struggling to live – breath by breath. For the loved ones, the parents, the children, the neighbors and the prayerful who must stand outside the doorway – concerned and scared.
May we offer our strength and hope to these people who rise to their sentinel call as the sun sets. From the top of a lighthouse to the rail of a bridge, these are the people who focus in the dark to comfort and protect those suffering and weary.
May we pray for the arrival of relief. Relief in the form of healing, in the joy of reunions and in the return of peace and comfort around home’s hearth.
Prayer found in Episcopal Book of Common Prayer
Photo: Wendy Claire Barrie
Behold this day, for it is yours to make.
Quote: Black Elk
Photo: Chris Liu Beers
Autumn light is the loveliest light there is. Soft, forgiving, it makes all the world an illuminated dream. Dust motes catch fire, and bright specks drift down from the trees and lift up from the stirred soil, floating over lawns and woodland paths and ordinary roofs and parking lots. It’s an unchoreographed aerial dance, a celebration of what happens when light marries earth and sky. Autumn light always makes me think of fiery motes of chalk dust drifting in the expectant hush of an elementary school classroom during story time, just before the bell rings and sets the children free.
Quote: Margaret Renkl, from “Our Days Have Always Been Running Out.” I greet autumn with a stillness I never felt when I was younger and in such a hurry. (NY Times, Sept 20, 2020)
Photo: DK. 10/4/20. 6:17 am. Cove Island Park, Stamford, CT.
Thank you, David Kanigan
I place on the altar of dawn:
The quiet loyalty of breath,
The tent of thought where I shelter,
Waves of desire I am shore to
And all beauty drawn to the eye.
May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites me to new frontiers,
To break the dead shell of yesterdays,
To risk being disturbed and changed.
May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.
Excerpt from ‘A Morning Offering’ found in his books,
To Bless the Space Between Us
Image: Killarney National Park, Co Kerry / Ireland
Photo: © Ann Cahill