For
the Interim Time
When
near the end of the day, life has drained
Out
of light, and it is too soon
For
the mind of night to have darkened things,
No
place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes
everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure
of what has been or what might come.
In
this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a
while it will be night, but nothing
Here
seems to believe the relief of dark.
You
are in this time of the interim
Where
everything seems withheld.
The
path you took to get here has washed out;
The
way forward is still concealed from you.
“The
old is not old enough to have died away;
The
new is still too young to be born.”
You
cannot lay claim to anything;
In
this place of dusk,
Your
eyes are blurred;
And
there is no mirror.
Everyone
has lost sight of your heart
And
you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You
know you have to make your own way through.
As
far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do
not allow your confusion to squander
This
call which is loosening
Your
roots in false ground,
That
you might come free
From
all you have outgrown.
What
is being transfigured here is your mind,
And
it is difficult and slow to become new.
The
more faithfully you can endure here,
The
more refined your heart will become
For
your arrival in the new dawn.
-John Donahue
Blessing
of Hope
So
may we know
the hope
that is not just
for someday
but for this day—
here, now,
in this moment
that opens to us:
hope
not made
of wishes
but of substance,
hope
made of sinew
and muscle
and bone,
hope
that has breath
and a beating heart,
hope
that will not
keep quiet
and be polite,
hope
that knows
how to holler
when it is called for,
hope
that knows
how to sing
when there seems
little cause,
hope
that raises us
from the dead—
not
someday
but this day,
every day,
again and
again and
again.
—Jan
Richardson
from The Cure for Sorrow
You are the peace of all things calm
You are the place to hide from harm
You are the light that shines in dark
You are the heart’s eternal spark
You are the door that’s open wide
You are the guest who waits inside
You are the stranger at the door
You are the calling of the poor
You are my Lord and with me from ill
You are the light, the truth, the way
You are my Saviour this very day.
-Celtic oral tradition – 1st millennium
…. And the whole world stood revealed in the usually hidden glory of ordinary things.
-Stephen King, Elevation
Come into our brokenness and our lives with your love that heals
all. Consume our pride and replace it with humility and vulnerability. Allow us to make space for your correction
and redemption. Allow us to bow down
with humble hearts, hearts of repentance. Bind us together in true unity and
restoration. May we hear your voice in the days to come. Give us collective
eyes to see our role in the repairing what has been broken. Allow this time to be a conduit for personal transformation
that would lead to collective reproduction. – adapted from Latasha Morrison, Be
the Bridge
You are Beloved.
Live out of your Belovedness,
Parent out of your Belovedness,
Love out of your Belovedness-
-Ann Voskamp
Awaken
us to your glory.
Dispel
the darkness of night.
Awaken
us to your glory.
Destroy
the heaviness of heart.
Awaken
us to your glory.
Cure
the blindness of our sight.
Awaken
us to your glory.
Heal
the deafness of our ears.
Awaken
us to your glory.
Open
the mouth that is dumb.
Awaken
us to your glory.
Restore
a gentleness of touch.
Awaken
us to your glory.
Encourage
us with a sense of adventure.
Awaken
us to your glory.
Bring
us an awareness of you.
Awaken
us to your glory.
-Celtic Benediction
