leadinginworship

More with less prayer

Here’s a prayer for the corners of my life
messy with yesterday’s business.
There’s the guilt about what was thrown in the garbage,
the regret about spending too much on extra things,
the time that was frittered away agonizing about details,
the energy wasted on meaningless trips back and forth.
My memories are cobwebbed over with regret
of how it could have been different:
it could have been more perfect,
neater, tastier, more organized, more healthy, more something.
Even now, looking forward, there’s the sinking feeling
that bulldozers will not be able to clean up the mess I’ll make.

I need a prayer like a woman cleaning in May,
opening windows, pulling down dusty drapes,
chairs and rugs dragged out onto the lawn.
Every surface of my life open and revealed
scoured by soap and spring winds.
The Spirit at work,
hope and new directions moved in like furniture.
Create in me clean corners, Lord,
ordered, uncluttered, functional.
A mind clarified, set to rights
filled with the freshness of new beginnings.

Prayer for a Friend Not Seen

God who sees the heart of things,

who sees my heart,

you know the love still lodged

for friends long absent.

Once, long past,

we found a home

in each other’s presence.

A genuine meeting then

a parting of ways,

the currents of life and time

drifting us to separate worlds.

God whose sight unites all souls

hear my prayer for my old friend,

a blessing of love abundant

and life richly lived.

Perhaps a meeting in the end

where eyes recognize time’s passage on our faces

and our voices tell the stories of our hearts.

Praying on a Windy Day

On this wind-swept day

my prayer is a kite

rising from outstretched arms

stringing taut and fast

up with sailing clouds

up with soaring hawks

my kite swoops

in the high blue

writing thank-you

thank-you.

Prickly Prayer

God, I have entered the irritation zone.

In the irritation zone,

conversations always rub me the wrong way,

nothing is where I left it,

everyone is being inconsiderate to me

and it is all taking too much time.

 

In the irritation zone,

my skin feels like its crawling,

my stomach is a tight ball,

my hands want to bang things

and my voice finds a sharp edge to every word.

 

In the irritation zone,

I can’t imagine myself in another place.

I am wrapped up in my own affairs,

I cannot stand the people I love

and I feel like I would rather do anything than pray.

 

In the irritation zone,

I can find only prickly prayers.

I pray for things to go my way,

I pray for you to fix what’s wrong

and I feel like a spoiled child.

 

In the irritation zone I expect you

to tell me to pull up my socks,

to quit being a whiner,

to think about someone else for a change,

to stop being such a loser.

 

A still small voice,

calm as a benediction:

Eat something.

Get some sleep.

You’ll feel better tomorrow.

Heavyhearted Prayer

My heart is heavy.

Heavy like a bulky suitcase carried too long,

Heavy like the pressure at the bottom of the pool’s deep end,

Heavy like feet at the end of a long day’s walk,

Heavy like carrying bad news to a friend,

 

Lifter of the heavyhearted, hear my prayer.

Help me to remember the strength that first lifted

    and bore the weight easily.

Help me to remember the sweet surrender of diving

    and the adventure of going deep.

Help me to remember the lightness of step

    at the beginning of a purposeful journey.

Help me to remember how even bad news

    is endured together in love’s embrace.

You are the God of the heavyhearted and the lighthearted,

keep me near your heart this day.  Amen.

Old Friends

Thank God for old friends

who take the long view—

who are not startled by temper flares

or momentary lapses of judgement.

The ballast of high regard

floats all ships:

you think well of me

and I strive not to disappoint.

 

Thank God for old friends

who see the lighter side,

who take great pleasure in double takes,

in funny accidents and awkward moments.

The helium of humour

lifts all spirits

as laughter shakes us up,

and we cannot catch our breath together.

 

Thank God for old friends

who hold out a steadying hand—

who are there with open ears

and sympathetic shoulders.

The engine of constant love

moves all mountains

as we share each other’s burdens.

Long-time God of friends, thank you for my friends.

Jealousy the Green-Eyed Cat

Jesus, please do something

about this green-eyed cat jealousy

who has parked herself in my house

purring discontent.

She seemed sweet enough on the doorstep

with her message of “poor you”. 

Once in, she patted me with soft paws mewing,

“that’s not fair” and “you deserve better”.

She lapped up all the milk of human kindness

and then with quiet feet and dainty claws

she sniffed around distastefully

as if my life smelled of failure.

And then the unkindest scratch of all,

“If only you could be someone else…”

And so this cat has got to go.

And I need your help

because she’s hard to catch,

and there’s something about nine lives…

I see her eyes looking at me from the corner

and I suddenly wonder,

“Why is it always me

having to put out the cat?”

Corners of My Mind

Here’s a prayer for the corners of my mind

littered with unfinished business—

hopes squashed decades ago,

orphan words that never had a listening ear,

yearnings unhinged, glances missed,

potential unrealized,

torn maps of roads not taken.

In lonely moments, if you listen closely,

you can hear regret gnawing away there

sharpening its teeth on yesterday’s sorrows.

 

I need a prayer like a woman cleaning in May,

opening windows, pulling down dusty drapes,

furniture dragged out onto the lawn.

Every surface open and revealed

scoured by soap and spring winds.

Create in me clean corners, Lord,

ordered, uncluttered, functional.

A mind clarified, set to rights

making way for the Spirit

who after a long day’s work,

brushes back her hair from her forehead,

lets out a deep breath, and smiles.