June Twenty-Twenty

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