Some prayers just roll out of the heart, smooth and easy... a conversation between old lovers comfortable in one another's embrace.
Others come a out a bit more like a cat hacking a hairball... lots of convulsions, stops and starts.
This one was for me more the latter than the former.
I offer it to you though, because I am convinced that God listens to the words between the words, to our intentions and our hearts, to our broken words that carry less meaning than we intend, even to our silences when words fail. My hope is that though the words to me feel frail, they may be just the frailty that serves as you pray...
Twinkling stars, sliding mists, swirling atoms, duplicating cells, roaring laughter, precise logic, glowing fire, rustling leaves, howling winds, swift rivers, long winding roads, warm friends, playing children, juicy hamburgers, pounding thunder, drizzling rain, pounding surf, flaming sun
These all, and so much more are wonderfully made!
My God... I don’t even know where to begin. Some days I think I get it... others I really don’t. I think of all the ways your handiwork shows up in the creation around me, a creation I remember you named “good!” I agree... it IS good! And then I think about how you shaped and molded me and had the exuberance to say “very good...”
That I do not get. You see God I look in the mirror and I don’t see much that comes across as “very good.” I think back through my interactions, my motivations, and my actions... I don’t see the “very good” part. I hear you say it, but I think that I must keep it pretty well hidden.
You see I know all the ways I screw up. I know all the crap I’ve slung. I know how my words too often get ahead of my brain and my mouth just motors on. I’ve seen the tears I’ve created. I’ve turned away from others in need. I’ve chased my advantage even if it meant others might suffer instead. I’ve sat on my ass when I needed to get up. I have pushed ahead when your word was clearly to stop. I know my doubts when suffering is so evident all around. What I see is often nothing but a wreck.
You say that I am not the product of my actions but the offspring of your making. You choose to do for me what I cannot do for myself. Where my eyes see this wreck... your eyes see something brand new... and you name me your child... wonderfully made
Take my vision of myself and substitute in yours.
... Oh the depths of your love.
... Oh the depths of your love.
... Oh the depths of your love.
Thank you Abba for the gift of life and maybe even more so for the gift of renewed life. Today I long to rest in your promise. Give me faith to trust that I too have been wonderfully made.
Amen.
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... come again soon.
Peace
~ Eric a.k.a.
