A prayer for the new year, 5775
(A prayer for the Month. The day. The hour.)
(A prayer for my next breath)
God of infinite compassion,
Creator of Light
and Breath:
Grant me Give.
Teach me to bend
before I break,
And find the
softness
hidden in the hard lines
and straight edges
that cut
and draw blood:
Sometimes mine.
Often yours.
Messy either way.
There is kindness
I think,
And grace,
that can gentle
the right angles
that guard my heart
and my fear,
And there,
in that linear
bisection
of slopes and slants,
I might remember
that we all fight
fierce dragons,
On a narrow,
rock-strewn,
unbending
road.
Grant me give, God,
and in that gentle giving
I can breathe
and let go
I write, mostly to keep my head from exploding. It threatens to do that a lot. My blog is the pixelated version of all the voices in my head. I tend to dive into what connects me to God, my community, my family and my doubt. I do a lot of searching, not as much finding. I’m good with that. I have learned, finally, to live comfortably in the gray. I n the meantime, I wrestle with God, and my doubt and my joy. If nothing else, I've learned to make a mean cup of coffee.
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