A Prayer for a Violent World

We live in a violent world, and we're afraid

      Afraid that the same shootings and bombings we hear of will happen to us, too

      Afraid of the inevitability of teen deaths in our streets and domestic violence in our homes 

      Afraid that military efforts will never eradicate terrorism
      Afraid that abusers will always prey on the weak, even in schools and in churches

       

We live in a violent world, and we're angry
      Angry that some have lost their lives at the hands of police brutality
      Angry that the media skews and gossips and misrepresents

      Angry that disease ravages life, family, and relationships

      Angry that soldiers serve and sacrifice but return home with harmed minds 

We live in a violent world and we're cynical
      Cynical towards appointed and elected leadership
      Cynical towards current and prospective neighbors who aren't like us
      Cynical towards reconciliation efforts among long histories of scandal and inequality
      Cynical towards commitment and long-suffering when self medication is easier and accessible

If we are honest, You seem far off from us and all of this
Where is the place for God in a violent world?
How can a good and trustworthy God uphold a violent world?
Where is the hope God offers to us in a violent world?

And yet..

You are God, the Christ, One who took on flesh in a violent world.

     Who else can be trusted with our fear but He who bore it unto death?

     Who else can bear with us in anger like He who came for the underprivileged and broken?

     Who else can break us of our hypocrisy and cynicism but He who is perfect in holiness?
     Who else will save us from these bodies enslaved to sin and death?

Thanks be to God in Christ for His resilience in breaking us and making us new

We have great need of Him- in our fear and anger and cynicism
In this ever violent and ravaged world we have but one confession:
Jesus is the Savior of all, and hope is no where else to be found

Open our eyes to see Him, in this Advent season and always.

Amen.

To Smile on What Will Be

"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, 

along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; 

I will turn the darkness into light before them 

and make the rough places smooth. 

These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them."

Isaiah 42:16

You grant us assuring promises.

But we admit our hesitance to believe them.

Either our current circumstances suggest otherwise,

or they sound too good to be true. 

Teach us that faith in you is vindicated in reverse.

We find you trustworthy by trusting you.

We find you powerful by subjecting ourselves to your might.

We know you as Father by embracing life as your children.

Teach us to hope for the coming days,

to smile on what will be.

In the meantime, we have full access to all that is yours.

There is no shortage.

Thank you for superintending all things as a Father, our Father.

Teach us to relate to you as such.

We ask these things in the name of Jesus,
Who for the sake of promise-keeping bore all grief, even to the grave.

Amen. 

We Long for This

Why is it so hard for us to see you in mundane suffering? Is inconvenience that big of an insult to our pride? We think we can overcome it if we make some adjustments, raise our voices a little higher, or shake our fists a little longer. There is always someone else to blame, even you.

Then there are times that are more than inconvenient. Times that bring loss, great physical pain, and showers of heartache. Loved ones pass, babies are lost, dreams of future relationships and vocations crumble, intense pain cripples us from daily life. In these times, we rarely try to save ourselves because we can't. We can't save ourselves when we are completely helpless, completely at the mercy of what will happen next. Only a fool would attempt such a thing. While at times unbearable, the grace of this is sweet. 

In our inconvenience, teach us to pray.

In our inconvenience, show us our need of rescue.

Help us to see our powerlessness to fix ourselves
in a world that has an app for everything.

In our darker hours, thank you for being the God who draws near.

In our darker hours, thank you for the gracious relief of your presence.

In it we are returned to children,
and all we have to do is need. 

We confess that our suffering whether small or great is unable to change us. But you. You are the  refiner and giver of life. You are the one who meets us in darkness and leads us through it into light.

This will always be true of you, until darkness is no more and you yourself are our tangible light.
We long for this.

Amen.

A Rest of a Different Kind

I woke up thinking about what I would need to face the day.
I thought I needed space, a nap, ample time to "do nothing".
But it didn't come. I never had it.
Instead there was a rest of a different kind.
Thanks for showing up int the presence of others-
for encouraging me in the stories they tell,
for being merciful in the moments the tales are made of.
You are our God, our peace and rest.

The Flock You Will Always Tend To

What is it about transitions that is so scary?
Perhaps it's the newness and lack of familiarity.
Perhaps it's the loss of what we leave behind.
Perhaps it's a scenario in which we aren't in control.

And yet..

There is something so blissful about transitions, too.
There is something so freeing, so gracious, so merciful about them.

In the lack of familiarity you are familiar.
In the loss of things and relationships you continually build.
In life and in death you are always in control.

Thank you for being the God of all transitions,
and for being our God in the midst of them.
We are free to rejoice and cry and cower as we will,
for we are your people, the flock you will always tend to.

Thank you for humbling us through times of transition,
For insisting that we are but dust, and that you are eternal.

Thank you for Christ, who felt the weight of transitions, even to the grave.
In his victory we smile at the days to come, unknown to us as they may be.

But of Course

Three new jobs in the past two years. A Bible degree. A boyfriend-turned fiance in seven month's time. A city that's a challenge in the winter and bliss in the summer. A new church. A sister's company. New neighborhoods and places to call home. New friendships, new losses, and new life.

Who knew?

Who knew it would all be here, greeting me in all its fullness and mess?

But of course.
You knew.

You always knew.

It is You who lives in our gladness, You who knows our sorrows unlike any other.
It is You who who is always forming, always making, always restoring.
It is You who created us, and who invites us into new life.

So we praise You- the one who cannot be surprised.
We praise Christ in all of his nearness, in all His God-made-flesh-ness.
He is here, He is there, and He knows.

But of course.

Morning Consciousness

 "I didn't get enough sleep. I don't have enough time to get ready. There's not enough food to make breakfast and lunch." Three statements of fear in the first three minutes of morning consciousness.

You, being enough for us, listen to our worrisome phrases with patience and care. Would You lift up our eyes? Would You help us to dream about the day that is actually before us, instead of dreaming about what could be?

No matter how difficult, this is the day You have given. Teach us to receive it in all that it is. Thanks be to God, who gives of Himself and all that He is. There is no life in our fantasies of convenience. But You, the Christ, raise up life in and around us.

We taste Your goodness and live.

Death Looms Before Us

When death looms before us, how do we live?

We would have hope, but we have no power to prolong life.

We would take care of others, but our strength is quickly fading.

We would remain strong, but fear engulfs us.

So we wait.

We wait for a rescue that has already arrived.

We wait for a rescue that continuously arrives.

He who comes is hope, and self-giving, and peace.

He comes to wear our grief, to remain in it with us.

He comes to ask nothing of us than to feel our need.

What a refuge we have in Him.

Save us from needing the perfect words.

Protect us from “what if’s” and the resulting shame.

Reveal Your kind intentions, Your reconciling intentions.

We are free.

We are free to hope, for He is a God who makes things new.

We are free to give of ourselves, for He went to the grave for us.

We are free to be at peace, for He has called us His very own.

So here we are, waiting, longing, ever-watching.

You will come as you always do.

You will give us yourself, nothing more and nothing less.

When death looms before us, we live.

Christ has made it so.