Saturday, February 04, 2006
Come Into Our Lives
O Lord, Giver of life,
Come into our lives this day, today, always,
The lives of your children,
And renew the heart of each of us.
You are the way, the truth and the life.
Strengthen our feet to walk that way,
Soften our hearts to accept that truth.
Breathe into us the life that only you can give.
When the darkness seems so heavy,
And the dawn so far away,
Touch us, O Lord, with your mercy
And give us the grace to carry on.
Bring to mind the cost of your touch,
How much you were willing to do to reach our lives,
And let us know that you are not a small god
Who is happy for the crumbs of our remembering,
But the Master of all,
Creator who breathed life into the universe,
Who offers us the fire of his love
To transform us, moment by moment, step by step
Into the children you would have us to be.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
O Lord, Giver of life,
Come into our lives this day, today, always,
The lives of your children,
And renew the heart of each of us.
You are the way, the truth and the life.
Strengthen our feet to walk that way,
Soften our hearts to accept that truth.
Breathe into us the life that only you can give.
When the darkness seems so heavy,
And the dawn so far away,
Touch us, O Lord, with your mercy
And give us the grace to carry on.
Bring to mind the cost of your touch,
How much you were willing to do to reach our lives,
And let us know that you are not a small god
Who is happy for the crumbs of our remembering,
But the Master of all,
Creator who breathed life into the universe,
Who offers us the fire of his love
To transform us, moment by moment, step by step
Into the children you would have us to be.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Prayer for one with a serious illness
Lord,
It is hard to face that dark reality
that our life is limited,
and one day, easy or hard,
we will return to you.
And yet, even seeing the outcome,
you bless us with the desire to carry on,
and give us hope,
for you are our healer,
our light,
our salvation,
who has pity for our sorrows,
and care for all our ills.
Lord, today, we especially recommend to you our sister(brother) (name),
who is looking down that hard road.
Be with her (him), and if you will, let her(his) body be healed.
Give her(him) and her(his) family the strength they need,
and smooth their way in the face of all obstacles,
and fill them with that peace that only comes from you.
Lord, you are our light, our life and our salvation. To whom else should we turn?
Amen.
It is hard to face that dark reality
that our life is limited,
and one day, easy or hard,
we will return to you.
And yet, even seeing the outcome,
you bless us with the desire to carry on,
and give us hope,
for you are our healer,
our light,
our salvation,
who has pity for our sorrows,
and care for all our ills.
Lord, today, we especially recommend to you our sister(brother) (name),
who is looking down that hard road.
Be with her (him), and if you will, let her(his) body be healed.
Give her(him) and her(his) family the strength they need,
and smooth their way in the face of all obstacles,
and fill them with that peace that only comes from you.
Lord, you are our light, our life and our salvation. To whom else should we turn?
Amen.
Labels: Help Me O Lord, Need for God, Trust
Control
Beneath a wall of water
Images of self-determination,
Control,
Being master of one’s fate
Become razed rubble,
Washed out to sea,
Leaving only the stubble
Of what hands had built,
Pulverized by something
Bigger and stronger than us.
How we love to build towers,
Monuments to self,
And pretend that we are the makers,
Ours the strong hand,
The clever thought,
The mastery.
But the one who controls the wind and the water,
Who breathed life into the world
Knows who we are,
Small and frail and weak
Posed against the largeness of his power.
Yet, in spite of all our posturings
And attempts to usurp his role,
In love, he offers us his hand
To heal our souls
Battered by the world and its darkness
So that he may take us into the light.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Images of self-determination,
Control,
Being master of one’s fate
Become razed rubble,
Washed out to sea,
Leaving only the stubble
Of what hands had built,
Pulverized by something
Bigger and stronger than us.
How we love to build towers,
Monuments to self,
And pretend that we are the makers,
Ours the strong hand,
The clever thought,
The mastery.
But the one who controls the wind and the water,
Who breathed life into the world
Knows who we are,
Small and frail and weak
Posed against the largeness of his power.
Yet, in spite of all our posturings
And attempts to usurp his role,
In love, he offers us his hand
To heal our souls
Battered by the world and its darkness
So that he may take us into the light.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: Jesus' Love, Need for God
Monday, January 30, 2006
Pentecost
Did it start
like the faintest whisper,
a breath of air,
gathering speed,
growing to a gale,
like a storm of God's light
ready to sweep across the globe?
Did it start
like a spark,
a brightness,
a pinprick of light,
a smolder
that roared into a flame
ready to set a sorrowful world on fire?
The hand of God at work -
taking this tiny group
like fine kindling
and blowing it into the flame
that would burn through the centuries -
a fire fueled with his own love,
bought by his own blood,
empowered with his own fire.
Come, Holy Spirit
And renew the face of the Earth,
spreading your flame
heart to heart,
soul by soul
rekindling, renewing, recharging
the light of your love
in the hearts of all who call Jesus Lord.
Let we who are warmed by your fire
spread these flames
hand to hand,
touch by touch,
life to life
until the whole world is emblazoned
with your touch,
the unquenchable fire
of the love of God
for this sad and undeserving world.
Amen.
Susan E Stone, 2006
Labels: Holy Spirit, Jesus' Love, Pentecost
Sunday, January 29, 2006
After the Earthquake
After the earthquake
and you got up off your knees, Centurion,
as your men remembered who they were --
soldiers, and not frightened children, and took their places back --
did you look long and hard
on that limp, empty body hanging there on the cross,
battered and beaten at the hands of your men,
and think about the stories about him you had heard?
Had it bothered you as the day wore on,
the impassioned politics of this day screaming for blood,
winding about their strange God in this strange land,
in ways you didn't quite understand?
But you had seen the amount of hate he had generated
in the shallow, grasping power plays
by men who would spit on you if they thought you weren't looking.
Jerusalem,
a city smoldering with tension
as the festival peaked,
threatening to blow up in a conflagration -
and as he hung there like a blood sacrifice designed to appease something unseeable,
did it dawn on you that you and your men were the tools
in the hand of forces beyond your vision,
that painful march from palace to execution site
a dark lustral procession
with you as master of ceremonies?
Such a day.
Standing there, transfixed by his dead gaze,
the blood-streaked face,
the blood-wetted hair
as you looked up into a face touched with no anger, no hate,
but a weary bloodied acceptance,
and a certain, strange peace as in a job well done.
After it all,
after the mockery and the forgiveness,
after the darkness,
after the last drawn out cry,
after the earthquake,
you no longer questioned -
you knew that you had been touched by the hand of Heaven.
"Surely this man,
this righteous man
was the son of God."
you said loud enough to be heard.
Would you have been amazed to know
how long those words have been remembered?
Susan E. Stone, 2006
.
and you got up off your knees, Centurion,
as your men remembered who they were --
soldiers, and not frightened children, and took their places back --
did you look long and hard
on that limp, empty body hanging there on the cross,
battered and beaten at the hands of your men,
and think about the stories about him you had heard?
Had it bothered you as the day wore on,
the impassioned politics of this day screaming for blood,
winding about their strange God in this strange land,
in ways you didn't quite understand?
But you had seen the amount of hate he had generated
in the shallow, grasping power plays
by men who would spit on you if they thought you weren't looking.
Jerusalem,
a city smoldering with tension
as the festival peaked,
threatening to blow up in a conflagration -
and as he hung there like a blood sacrifice designed to appease something unseeable,
did it dawn on you that you and your men were the tools
in the hand of forces beyond your vision,
that painful march from palace to execution site
a dark lustral procession
with you as master of ceremonies?
Such a day.
Standing there, transfixed by his dead gaze,
the blood-streaked face,
the blood-wetted hair
as you looked up into a face touched with no anger, no hate,
but a weary bloodied acceptance,
and a certain, strange peace as in a job well done.
After it all,
after the mockery and the forgiveness,
after the darkness,
after the last drawn out cry,
after the earthquake,
you no longer questioned -
you knew that you had been touched by the hand of Heaven.
"Surely this man,
this righteous man
was the son of God."
you said loud enough to be heard.
Would you have been amazed to know
how long those words have been remembered?
Susan E. Stone, 2006
.
Labels: Passion of Christ
Walking Blindly
O Lord,
I hear your voice whispering,
calling in the wind
as the snowflakes pile up,
"You are warm in your house -
have you thought about those who are cold?"
and I am aghast,
for I had not.
O Lord,
I hear your voice whispering,
calling as I cook in my kitchen
preparing an abundant meal for my family.
"You have food to eat in plenty,
have you thought about the hungry?"
and I bow my head in shame,
for I had not.
O Lord,
how often I walk blindly,
forgetting your call for mercy.
Soften my heart, O Lord,
give me a mind that remembers
the needs of others,
eyes that see
the need for mercy,
hands that respond
without being prodded.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
I hear your voice whispering,
calling in the wind
as the snowflakes pile up,
"You are warm in your house -
have you thought about those who are cold?"
and I am aghast,
for I had not.
O Lord,
I hear your voice whispering,
calling as I cook in my kitchen
preparing an abundant meal for my family.
"You have food to eat in plenty,
have you thought about the hungry?"
and I bow my head in shame,
for I had not.
O Lord,
how often I walk blindly,
forgetting your call for mercy.
Soften my heart, O Lord,
give me a mind that remembers
the needs of others,
eyes that see
the need for mercy,
hands that respond
without being prodded.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: Being Merciful, Love of Neighbor
