Prayer by Rev. Debra McKnight
Please listen to “It’s Quiet Up Town,” pause, and join in prayer as you feel comfortable.
God of Mercy,
They say, “Just keep swimming.”
They say, “God has a plan.”
They say, “Buck up. Cheer up. Smile.”
“It’s for the best,” or “You’ll be better someday.”
But sometimes, brokenness just breaks you down to the core.
Words can’t reach, teach or even begin to name
and it would seem easier to just swim down.
Sometimes the world turns upside down and you lose the one you loved,
the child you carried, the future you dreamed.
Sometimes the world turns upside down and you lose the health you had,
the house you made a home, the business you built, the race you ran.
Sometimes the world turns upside down, your heart splits, ties break and bonds strain,
and you feel a shell of yourself, adrift or stuck or stunned or all of that and more.
Sometimes in one moment, you come undone and everything must change.
And then You, Loving God, whisper, “Breathe.”
You grant mercy in the pause.
You grant grace in tears and friends and cussing and casseroles,
and songs, void of cliches.
You, God of Mercy, with healing in your wings,
hold us in our deepest grief, our fury and rage,
our great uncertainty, our earnest loss and our honest pain.
And You honor it. You hold it up in the light of love
and remind us of our remarkable resilience,
our deep courage to live and move and rise.
You create us for relationship, making us vulnerable and durable,
and offering the gift of kin,
companions for the journey, a life-line of direction when we feel lost,
and nourishment when we feel so empty.
Kin to walk with, cry with, laugh and share with.
Until we rise, ever so slowly, ever so gently, little pieces of ourselves forming and reforming,
we rise, Spirit lifted in the midst of the unimaginable and
we, ever so lovingly, turn our deep wounds into powerful, beautiful scars.
Scars we can talk about to help others find their way.
Scars that allow all the hurt to give life.
© Rev. Debra McKnight, Urban Abbey