A Summer Morning prayer. . .

 

Opening Prayer
I bow before you, my hidden but beloved God,
as I begin this day.
An alarm rings in my heart to awaken me to the fact
that I am a pilgrim who travels a sacred path.
I now answer that call to mindfulness,
as I prepare to enter into silent prayer.
I join myself with all who are in prayer at this sacred hour
when the Earth once again faces its source of life, the sun.
I now turn fully to face you, O God,
the source of the universe and of my life,
as I enter into silence. (pause for silent prayer).

With fidelity I have tried to still my restless heart in you,
the divine source of all that I am.
May this effort bear fruit by my living more fully in the
present moment this day.
I join my voice to all the awakening sounds of the Earth
at this hour, as I pray. (reflect on a chosen passage of scripture)

Concluding PrayerThis summer day is growing warmer
as we turn to face the fullness of our daystar, the sun.
Plants, animals, and we human folk are all solar-powered
in the marvel of your clever creation.
May this morning prayer give me the energy
to act at all times this day with love and kindness.
May I treat each person and each living being as a
brother or sister, as a member of your sacred family.

I pray now for these personal needs: (offer intentions), and
for the special needs this day of (n.).
May the business of this day never eclipse my real work
as a pilgrim on the sacred path.

Open my eyes and ears to the miracles you have hidden
along my path this day.
Let my mind find its joy in the present moment,
the only place where you dwell.

I bow before you, Divine Creator, Holy Mother,
Eternal Source of my existence.
Your heart is my home;
from you I have come
and to you I journey this day.
AMEN.

(Author: Edward Hays)
 

Welcome, Summer!

 

Summer Prayer . . .

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan,  
and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of              
up and down,
who is gazing around with her enormous and                        
complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly                                                                            
washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, 
how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

~ Mary Oliver

Courage to be MySelf!

 

The Courage to Be Myself

 

I have the courage to . . .

Embrace my strengths ~

Get excited about life ~ Enjoy giving

and receiving love ~ Face and transform

my fears ~ Ask for help and support

when I need it ~

Spring free of the Superwoman Trap~

Trust myself ~ Make my own decisions

and choices ~ Befriend myself ~ Complete

unfinished business ~ Realize that I have

emotional and practical rights ~

Talk as nicely to myself

as I do to my plants ~ Communicate

lovingly with understanding as my goal ~

Honor my own needs ~

Give myself credit for my accomplishments ~

Love the little girl within me ~

Overcome my addiction to approval ~

Grant myself permission to play ~

Quit being a Responsibility Sponge ~

Feel all of my feelings and act on them

appropriately ~ Nurture others because

I want to, not because I have to ~

Choose what is right for me ~ Insist on being

paid fairly for what I do ~

Set limits and boundaries and stick by them ~

Say “yes” only when I really mean it ~

Have realistic expectations ~ Take risks and

accept change ~ Grow through challenges ~

Be totally honest with myself ~

Correct erroneous beliefs and assumptions ~

Respect my vulnerabilities ~

Heal old and current wounds ~

Savor the mystery of Spirit ~

Wave good-bye to guilt ~ Plant “flower,”

not “weed” thoughts in my mind ~

Treat myself with respect and teach others

to do the same ~

Fill my cup first, then nourish

others from the overflow ~

Own my own excellence ~

Plan for the future but live

in the present ~ Value my

intuition and wisdom ~ Know that I am

lovable ~ Celebrate the differences between

women and men ~ Develop healthy,

supportive relationships ~

Make forgiveness a priority ~

Accept myself just as I am now ~

 

                     The Courage to Be Myself

 

 

Spirit of Presence . . .

 God, help me today to realize that you will be speaking to me through the events of the day, through people, through things, and through all creation.  Give me ears, eyes and heart to perceive you, however veiled your presence may be.  Give me insight to see through the exterior things to the interior truth.  Give me your Spirit of discernment.  O God, you know how busy I must be this day. If I forget you, do not forget me.

Amen.

(Adapted from Jacob Astley quoted in “Hearing with the Heart” by Debra K. Farrington

Holy Spirit of Truth and Courage!

 

Come, Holy Spirit ~

Replace the tension within me with a holy relaxation,

Replace the turbulence within me with a sacred calm,

Replace the anxiety within me with a quiet confidence,

Replace the fear within me with a strong faith,

Replace the bitterness within me with the sweetness of grace,

Replace the darkness within me with a gentle light,

Replace the coldness within me with a loving warmth,

Replace the night within me with Your day,

Replace the winter within me with Your spring,

Straighten my crookedness, fill my emptiness,

Dull the edge of my pride, sharpen the edge of my humility,

Light the fires of my love, quench within me the flames of envy,

Let me see myself as You see me, that I may see You as You have promised ~

And be fortunate according to Your word, “Blessed are the pure of heart,

for they shall see God.”                                                                                                      

(Anonymous)

Chaos meets peace. . .

 

To all that is chaotic in you,
let there come silence.

Let there be
a calming
of the clamoring,
a stilling
of the voices that
have laid their claim
on you,
that have made their
home in you,

that go with you
even to the
holy places
but will not
let you rest,
will not let you
hear your life
with wholeness
or feel the grace
that fashioned you.

Let what distracts you cease. 

Let what divides you
cease.
Let there come an end
to what diminishes
and demeans,
and let depart
all that keeps you
in its cage.

Let there be
an opening
into the quiet
that lies beneath
the chaos,
where you find
the peace
you did not think
possible
and see what shimmers
within the storm.

~ Jan Richardson, 

paintedprayerbook.com

 

God listening . . .

 

Prayer to a Faithful God (in Hard Times)

Your mercies are new every day.
When I could hardly catch my breath,
fear clenching my stomach,
and every horizon dark,
you were there for me.
Whether I stood on the precipice
of grief, or pain, or loneliness or despair:
you heard me calling.
My prayers not echoing
in empty chambers,
not ricocheting into nothingness;
you listened to every word.
You come, not always with quick fixes,
not always with the solutions I’ve planned.
You teach me that every road is walkable
with you beside me.
Your steadying voice gentles me.
You are the faithful One,
from generation to generation,
seeking out our sad souls,
picking up the lost and left behind,
taking care of the woeful.
God of great grace,
hear this prayer of thanks
even from the land of broken dreams.

"Copyright Carol Penner www.leadinginworship.com"

Ascension Day – Truly "up-lifting" . . .

 

Ascensions into heaven are like falling leaves, sad and happy all at the same time. Going away isn't really sad, especially when your going enables a new kind of presence to be born.

Long have the leaves known the trees. They've danced together in the wind days upon days. But now, growing older and wiser, they know they can’t cling to the trees forever. And so they say good-bye falling to the ground waiting for the mystery of death to transform them into nourishment for the earth.

And the trees? They stand alone for one short season but they are at peace, waiting for another mystery to enfold them with its presence.

When I saw you leaving I covered my face with my heart. Oh, the ache of letting go. But then I remembered the trees and so I stood in peace remembering your return.

When you come back, we will be new for each other, much will have happened in our lives. There will be more for each of us to love, more for each of us to know. The Spirit will have  left a footprint in our lives, and we will be excited like a new leaf come home to a tree! 
(From: Seasons of Your Heart by Macrina Wiederkehr)

Wise Women of the Visitation . . .

A selection from Soul Sisters by Edwina Gateley, who reflects on this Gospel of the Visitation . . .

 “Affirmed, loved and comforted,
You stayed with Elizabeth,
Absorbing the experience and the wisdom
 of the older woman,
deepening in your own resolve
to nurture, hold
and mother God.

Your journey has blessed ours, Mary.
Your Yes dares us
to believe in the impossible,
to embrace the unknown,
and to expect the breaking through of mystery
onto our bleak and level horizons.

The words you heard, Mary,
we will forever remember.
We will not be afraid,
for the life that you birthed
will not be extinguished
in our souls.

And the journey
you took in faithfulness,
we also take.
We the people, women and men, the midwives,
and the healers will also,
like you, Mary, our soul sister,
Give birth to God
for our world.”

Memorial Day . . .

 

From an Irish headstone

We Pray in Gratitude . . .

O God, help us to feel you;

Help us to know how precious we are to you,

that we might become at least half so precious to ourselves.

Move with us, according to your desire.

Ease our hearts, melt our harsh edges

so that we might sense how intimate you truly are.

Guide us, God in an ever more complete embrace of you, 

that we might bear more of your endless embrace of us,

and thereby embrace ourselves.

Keep alive within us, O Christ, your most precious gift to us

which is our burning, longing, wordless yearning for you.

Grant to us the courage and the vulnerability and the dignity

to claim our hunger for you in every moment, 

celebrating, in each instant the pain and delight of our longing.

Touch us beneath our will, opening us where we cannot open ourselves,

healing us where we cannot heal ourselves.

And, in the vibrant mystery of your Spirit within us,

accept our eternal gratitude for every act of goodness 

that comes to us from another or through us for another,

for every nourishing way that souls may touch each other,

for every bit of love we share, and for the wonder,

the tender laughing touching calling beautiful wonder.

Gerald May 

Relationships . . .

 

 There was once a dark cave, deep down in the ground, underneath the earth and hidden away from view.  Because it was so deep in the earth, the light had never been there.  The cave had never seen light.  The word ‘light’ meant nothing to the cave, who couldn’t imagine what ‘light’ might be.   

Then one day, the sun sent an invitation to the cave, inviting it to come up and visit. When the cave came up to visit the sun it was amazed and delighted, because the cave had never seen light before, and it was dazzled by the wonder of the experience.

Feeling so grateful to the sun for inviting it to visit, the cave wanted to return the kindness, and so it invited the sun to come down to visit it sometime, because the sun had never seen darkness. 

So the day came, and the sun entered the cave, it looked around with great interest, wondering what ‘darkness’ would be like.  Then it became puzzled, and asked the cave, ‘Where is the darkness?’  (Source Unknown)

 

The Secret of Happiness . . .

 

Two Drops of Oil

A merchant sent his son to learn the Secret of Happiness from the wisest of men. The young man wandered through the desert for forty days until he reached a beautiful castle at the top of a mountain. There lived the sage that the young man was looking for.

However, instead of finding a holy man, our hero entered a room and saw a great deal of activity; merchants coming and going, people chatting in the corners, a small orchestra playing sweet melodies, and there was a table laden with the most delectable dishes of that part of the world.

The wise man talked to everybody, and the young man had to wait for two hours until it was time for his audience.

With considerable patience, he listened attentively to the reason for the boy's visit, but told him that at that moment he did not have the time to explain to him the Secret of Happiness.

He suggested that the young man take a stroll around his palace and come back in two hours' time.

"However, I want to ask you a favor," he added, handing the boy a teaspoon, in which he poured two drops of oil. "While you walk, carry this spoon and don't let the oil spill."

The young man began to climb up and down the palace staircases, always keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon. At the end of two hours he returned to the presence of the wise man.

"So," asked the sage, "did you see the Persian tapestries hanging in my dining room? Did you see the garden that the Master of Gardeners took ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?"

Embarrassed, the young man confessed that he had seen nothing. His only concern was not to spill the drops of oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.

"So, go back and see the wonders of my world," said the wise man. "You can't trust a man if you don't know his house."

Now more at ease, the young man took the spoon and strolled again through the palace, this time paying attention to all the works of art that hung from the ceiling and walls. He saw the gardens, the mountains all around the palace, the delicacy of the flowers, the taste with which each work of art was placed in its niche. Returning to the sage, he reported in detail all that he had seen.

"But where are the two drops of oil that I entrusted to you?" asked the sage. Looking down at the spoon, the young man realized that he had spilled the oil.

"Well, that is the only advice I have to give you," said the sage of sages. "The Secret of Happiness lies in looking at all the wonders of the world and never forgetting the two drops of oil in the spoon." 

Story by Paulo Coelho

A Seeker's Prayer!

A Prayer from Anselm of Canterbury

O my God teach my heart where and how to seek you, where and how to find you…

You are my God and you are my All and I have never seen you.

You have made me and remade me, you have bestowed on me all the good things I possess, still I do not know you…I have not yet done that for which I was made….

Teach me to seek you…I cannot seek you unless you teach me or find you unless you show yourself to me. Let me seek you in my desire, let me desire you in my seeking.

Let me find you by loving you, let me love you when I find you – Amen.

Unfoldings

 

Unfoldings

The Song of the Seed

Life unfolds a petal at a time – slowly. 

The beauty of the process is crippled when I try to hurry growth. 

Life has its inner rhythm which must be respected. 

It cannot be rushed or hurried. Like daylight stepping out of darkness. 

Like morning creeping out of night – life unfolds - slowly - a petal at a time – like a flower opening to the sun, slowly. 

God’s call unfolds a Word at a time – slowly. 

A disciple is not made in a hurry.  

Slowly I become like the One to whom I am listening. 

Life unfolds a petal at a time like you and I becoming followers of Jesus, discipled into a new way of living deeply and slowly. 

Be patient with life’s unfolding petals. If you hurry the bud it withers. If you hurry life it limps. 

Each unfolding is a teaching, a movement of grace filled with silent pauses, breathtaking beauty, tears and heartaches. 

Life unfolds a petal at a time – deeply and slowly.  

May it come to pass!  

(From The Song of the Seed by Macrina Wiederkehr)

The Gift . . .

 

‘If I Had My Life to Live Over’ by Erma Bombeck

(Written after she found out she was dying from cancer)

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren’t there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the ‘good’ living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day

because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later. Now go get washed up for dinner.”

There would have been more “I love you’s.” More “I’m sorry’s.”

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it and really see it, live it and never give it back.

Erma Bombeck (1927-1996)

 

The Secret Recipe (In honor of Mother’s Day – U.S.A)

 

When God created mothers, it was well into overtime on the sixth day. An angel dropped by and commented, ‘God, you are taking your time over this creature!’

God replied, ‘You should see the special requirements in the specification! She has to be easy to maintain, but not made of plastic or have any artificial components. She has one hundred and sixty movable parts, and nerves of steel, with a lap big enough for ten children to sit on it at once, but she herself has to be able to fit into a kiddies’ chair. She has to have a back that can carry everything that is loaded onto it. She has to be able to mend everything, from a grazed knee to a broken heart. And she’s supposed to have six pairs of hands’

The angel shook her head. ‘Six pairs of hands? No way!’ ‘The hands are easy,’ God said. ‘But I’m still working on the three pairs of eyes that she needs.’ ‘Is this the standard model?’ the angel asked.

God nodded: ‘Oh, yes. One pair to look through closed doors, while she asks, “What are you doing?” even though she already knows the answer. A second pair at the back of her head, to see what she’s not meant to see, but needs to know about. And, of course, the pair at the front that can look at her child, let him know that he is misbehaving and had better change his ways, while at the same time letting him see how much she loves and understands him.’

‘I think you should go to bed now, God, and get some sleep,’ said the angel. ‘I can’t do that,’ said God. ‘I’m almost there. I have nearly created a being who heals herself when she’s ill, who can delight thirty children with one little birthday cake, who can persuade a three-year-old to use his feet to walk and not to kick.’

The angel walked slowly around the prototype Mother. ‘It’s too soft,’ she said. ‘But tough,’ God retorted. ‘You wouldn't believe the wear and tear this Mother will tolerate.’

‘Can she think?’ asked the angel. ‘Not only think, but reach wise judgments and essential compromises,’ said God. ‘And she can do more than that. She can forget!’

Finally, the angel ran her finger across the model’s cheek. ‘There’s a leak,’ she said. ‘I warned you that you were trying to get too much into her.’

‘That’s not a leak,’ said God. ‘That’s a tear.’ ‘What’s that for?’ asked the angel. ‘It flows whenever she feels joy or grief, disappointment or pride, pain or loneliness, or the depths of love.’

‘You’re a genius,’ said the angel. God looked again at this work of art, with pleasure and pride. ‘The tear,’ God said, ‘is her overflow valve.’ (Source Unknown)

Fourth Sunday of Easter - Stories . . .

 

"Because I know the Psalm, but he knows the Shepherd."

Shepherd Story #1:
There’s an old story about a priest was celebrating his 50th Anniversary of Ordination.  For this occasion he had invited his personal friend, Richard Burton, to come and recite his favorite Psalm 23.  Richard Burton agreed to do this on the condition that the priest would also recite it after him. 

At the appointed time, Richard Burton stood and proclaimed the popular psalm with such oratorical mastery the congregation immediately applauded.  And then this humble pastor stood up and began to recite, from heart, this beloved Psalm.  After he had finished his not nearly so professional recitation, the congregation was in awe, and some moved to tears.  Someone in the front pew with Richard Burton leaned over and asked him, "Why did people loudly applaud you and yet were silently moved by the pastor?"  Burton replied, "Because I know the Psalm, but he knows the Shepherd."

Shepherd Story #2:
There was once a Shakespearean actor who was known everywhere for his one-man shows of readings and recitations from the classics. He would always end his performance with a dramatic reading of Psalm 23.

Each night, without exception, as the actor began his recitation - "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want”. The crowd would listen attentively. And then, at the conclusion of the Psalm, they would rise in thunderous applause in appreciation of the actor's incredible ability to bring the verse to life.

But one night, just before the actor was to offer his customary recital of Psalm 23, a young man from the audience spoke up. "Sir, do you mind if tonight I recite Psalm 23?" The actor was quite taken back by this unusual request, but he allowed the young man to come forward and stand front and center on the stage to recite the Psalm, knowing that the ability of this unskilled youth would be no match for his own talent.

With a soft voice, the young man began to recite the words of the Psalm. When he was finished, there was no applause. There was no standing ovation as on other nights. All that could be heard was the sound of weeping. The audience had been so moved by the young man's recitation that every eye was full of tears. Amazed by what he had heard, the actor said to the youth, "I don't understand. I have been performing Psalm 23 for years. I have a lifetime of experience and training - but I have never been able to move an audience as you have tonight. Tell me, what is your secret?"

The young man quietly replied, "Well sir, you know the Psalm... I know the Shepherd."

Shepherd Story #3:
The banquet hall was filled. To speak for the occasion, a renowned orator had been brought in. After a wonderful meal, he mesmerized the crowd with his voice as he recited poetry and famous selections of speeches.

Near the end of the program, he asked if anyone had a favorite selection that they would like for him to recite. From the back of the room, an old man stood up and kindly asked if he would mind reciting the 23rd Psalm. The speaker said that he would be glad to do it if, when he was finished, the old man would recite it as well. The old gentleman nodded his head and sat back down.

In a beautifully trained voice that resonated throughout the great room, the speaker began, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures…” When he was finished, there was thunderous applause and a standing ovation.

He then looked at the old man and said, “All right sir, it is your turn now.”
In a trembling voice that was cracked by time, the old man began to recite, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” It is said that when he was finished, there was no applause, but neither was there a dry eye in the building.

After the event, someone asked the famous speaker what he thought produced the different responses in the crowd. The speaker paused, thought for a moment and said, “I know the 23rd Psalm, but that man knows the shepherd. That makes all the difference.”

Do you know the shepherd?

Shepherd Story #4:
A shepherd was tending his flock in a remote pasture when suddenly a dust cloud approached at high speed, out of which emerged a shiny silver BMW. The driver, a young man in an Armani suit, Ferragamo shoes, the latest Polarized sunglasses and a tightly knotted power tie, poked his head out the window and asked the shepherd, "Hey! If I can tell you how many sheep you have in your flock, will you give me one?" The shepherd looked at the man, then glanced at his peacefully grazing flock and answered, "Sure."

 

The driver parked his car, plugged his microscopic cell phone into a laptop and briskly surfed to a GPS satellite navigation system on the Internet and initiated a remote body-heat scan of the area. While the computer was occupied, he sent some e-mail via his BlackBerry and, after a few minutes, nodded solemnly at the responses. Finally, he printed a 150 page report on the little laser printer in his glove compartment, turned to the shepherd, waving the sheaves of paper, and pronounced “You have exactly 1,586 sheep."  "Impressive. One of my sheep is yours." said the shepherd.

He watched the young man select an animal and bundle it into his car. Then the shepherd said: "If I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my sheep?" Pleased to meet a fellow sportsman, the young man replied “You’re on.”  "You are a consultant." said the shepherd without hesitation. "That's correct," said the young man, impressed. "How ever did you guess?" "It wasn’t a guess," replied the shepherd. "You drive into my field uninvited. You ask me to pay you for information I already know, answer questions I haven’t asked, and you know nothing about my business. Now give me back my dog."

 

 

 



Stories: Authors Unknown

PRAYER FOR THE CONCLAVE . . .

"Loving God, as the conclave begins, we ask for an openness to your Holy Spirit. Help us to cast aside our own desires and agendas, and to listen with humility to your will. May the cardinals be guided by your wisdom and discernment, leading them to a choice that will serve the Church and its people in the years to come. May they be filled with your grace and love, and may their decision be a source of peace and hope for all. Amen.". (Attributed to R. Rohr)

We lift our hearts . . .

 

Photo by sjh

Disturb us, O God,

when we are too well pleased with ourselves,

when our dreams have come true

because we have dreamed too little,

when we arrived safely

because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, O God,

when with the abundance of things we possess

we have lost our thirst

for the waters of life.

Disturb us, O God,

to dare more boldly,

to venture on wider seas

where storms will show your mastery;

where losing sight of land,

we shall find the stars.

We ask you to push back

the horizons of our hopes;

and to push into the future

in strength, courage, hope and love.

~ attributed to Sir Francis Drake