“…Show to me this day amidst life’s dark streaks of wrong and suffering the light that endures in every person. Dispel the confusions that cling close to my soul that I may see with eyes washed by your grace… …that I may be well in my own soul and part of the world’s healing this day that I may be well in my own soul and part of the world’s healing this day. (Wednesday Prayers from Celtic Benediction)
We close another day. May we sleep when we are covered by the blanket of stars and awaken to the rising sun, renewed and ready to meet the day. Tomorrow begins with deep concern and reaching for hope. Wherever we are- imagine how we are connected- in safety, in spirit. May we see one another and be part of the healing.
The eyes of the future are looking back at us
and they are praying for us to see beyond our own time.
They are kneeling with hands clasped that we might act with restraint,
that we might leave room for the life that is destined to come.
Quote: Terry Tempest Williams
Photo: Sergei Akulich
Give yourself time to make a prayer that will become the prayer of your soul. Listen to the voices of longing in your soul. Listen to your hungers. Give attention to the unexpected that lives around the rim of your life. Listen to your memory and to the in rush of your future, to the voices of those near you and those you have lost. Out of all of that attention to your soul, make a prayer that is big enough for your wild soul, yet tender enough for your shy and awkward vulnerability; that has enough healing to gain the ointment of divine forgiveness for your wounds; enough truth and vigour to challenge your blindness and complacency; enough graciousness and vision to mirror your immortal beauty. Write a prayer that is worthy of the destiny to which you have been called.
So grateful for the beauty and wisdom you shared. Rest in peace, Mary Oliver.
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.”