june twenty-third . two thousand nine
I pray, tonight, for individuality, and for grace and patience to honor one another's needs.
I feel that, this day, there is backdrop of loving intolerance; of missed communication and sadness of separation. I see, in myself and my own family, a constant lack of presence of mind to see ourselves as flawed, incompletely kind, not quite thoughtful. I seek, in myself first and fully, a round, deep sense of love and patience towards those around me. A broadcast of kindness. A wide-open seeing, listening, how my voice sounds in their ears, where the empathy falls in each conversation. First. It should be first.
I pray that you will give us empathy, that you will show us ever more stunningly how much, much empathy is in our children, how much love, that you will let us reflect that, magnify, expound, illuminate, celebrate them, their gifts.
Thank you for them. Thank you for deep brown eyes and easy laughs and the adult that is Everett, always sorry if we're angry, always hungry for attention, always in need of us, looking him in eyes, listening to him.
God, give me time to listen, give me the eyes to see their beauty, give me peace before I speak. Give me gratitude for them, even when it is hard, give me grace, let me always know how lucky I am.
june eleventh . two thousand nine
I ask for this, God: wisdom. I ask that we will use our time and our resources wisely, with gentleness and with a true appreciation of the beauty and wonder around us. I ask that we will see what luck, what blessings, what wonder is here: in our family, in our home, in our garden, in our lives.
I pray that we will be good stewards of the riches with which we've been entrusted. I pray for time, time, time: and I pray that every minute will be taken roundly, considered wholly, used thoughtfully: that we will open our mouths, taste with our tongue, and chew slowly, truly appreciate our time here with each other.
I pray that there will be salads, and pancakes, and raspberries, and oatmeal, and milk, and that we will eat every bite, filling ourselves with the treasures of our garden and pantry. I pray that, when we are out in the world this weekend, we will drive slowly, cautiously, and with a full sense of the world around us and our impact on it.
I pray that we can be quiet together, as a family, that we can fully develop mutual love, wonder, and respect. I pray for safety, and I pray for open eyes.
june eighth . two thousand nine
I pray for forgiveness tonight, I pray that you will forgive yourselves and that we will forgive one another, I pray that those you have hurt will not be that hurt, I pray that your own hurts will be forgiven. I pray for a sleep of healing.
I pray that you are not broken, and I pray that I have not broken you. I pray for the thousand pieces of you, the ones that shard, break, blast your friends and those who you do not consider friends, I pray I will help you stitch back together. I pray that, at my knee, you will learn careful and artful stitches, to bring together, not to rend asunder.
I pray for atonement, I pray that I will be a better mother, a better person, spouse, friend, servant of mankind. I pray for tomorrow, that we will wake with wide eyes and open hearts, that we will caretake this little plot of land that is ours, that we will harvest and we will sow, that we will look around us and discover the beauty that is here, right here, in leaf, blossom, brother, husband, mother.
I pray that I will say what needs to be said, and I pray that my words will be gentle and kind. I pray that all of us will have time in the space between feeling and saying to think, to consider, to choose wisely, choose lovingly.
Let us all love; let us all feel loved.
june seventh . two thousand nine
After a loud, chaotic day, I pray for quiet, in your nighttime and in your souls, I pray for healing for scraped and bruised and dirt-scaped skin.
I pray that anger will be calmed, quenched, that every bit of anger in me, in you, in those around you, will be lifted, cleansed, and in their space, now empty, will come -- God -- Your grace, Your peace, Your hope, Your hopefulness, your love. Within us all; these boys who are before me, in me, your father, your grandma and grandpa, all your aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends; within us all place Your love.
Fill us, not with anger and sadness and self-doubt, but with love.
Let us sleep, a sleep of healing and hope, let us wake early in the morning, give us a beautiful day.