The following benediction is one I stumbled across by author Emily Freeman:
"In the regular rhythms of home and play, of work
and washing, of listening and slow conversation, may we see God even though we
can’t see God.
May
our home be a place of quirky delight and may we
open our eyes to the gift of living inside it because of all the ways we’ve
made it our own. And if our home doesn’t yet reflect our own personality, may
we have the courage and moxie to make it so.
May we be people who hang pictures, paint walls,
light candles, build forts with blankets, and try new things….
Toward our families, may we be full of hope – able to move beyond our fear and
insecurities into the lives of others, willing to release the right to control
the outcomes.
May we be open to finding a gift in an unwelcome
situation, hearing wisdom from an unlikely person, and receiving grace in an
unexpected place.
May Christ be my security when I care too much
about the small things and my salvation when I care too little about the big
ones.
May my heart be soft enough to know the
difference.
In my soul, may I not be surprised at my own contradictions, how I
long to be alone, yet crave community; wish for attention and also anonymity;
want my independence but secretly wish for someone to take care of me.
May I stop trying to smooth out my
inconsistencies by the strength of my own will, but may I bring them all like a
child into the changeless and unmoving presence of Christ….
May we not be surprised when we discover the fixed point from which he longs to move into the world is not from some nebulous place out there, rather it is from an intimate place within us.
May fear, discouragement, doubt, comparison, envy, and failure not have the final say in our homes, our families, or our souls.
Instead, may we live into our truest calling as people who give and receive grace, forgiveness, and love. May we turn toward hope on purpose and begin again today. And then, again tomorrow."