Prayer (April 2014) by Josh E.

 (prayers from a distant life - Josh)

 Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.

 

Help me to remember what I should remember and forget what I should forget.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Mary, help me to see women as created by your son; holy, pure, beloved.

"May my life attest, what my heart and mouth confess."  -St. Anselm 

Come down
we beseech you, O Lord
upon this house and 
drive from it all the snares of the enemy.
Let your holy angels dwell in it
and keep us in peace.  And may your blessing
be with us always.
This we ask through 
Chris our Lord.

Prayer (April 2014) by Renee

When the weather breaks

prayers seep through my soul

like warm air mysteriously forming

where winter still abides.

At first it is simply breath.

Then the breath is noticed,

and then all the senses rise -

What I see, what I hear, what I smell

is holy. Is spirit. Is life.

Every hungry vulture, circling the perished;

every horny frog, competing with croaks;

every rotting leaf vanishing into the dirt

and a putrid smell is beautiful. Is me.

Is this consuming hole at my core

that is emptiness and loneliness and

also what it means to be alive.

And then words form, imperfect

like a child in the arms of their mother

droning, “I want Mommy”, when they are tired

or ill. What they mean

is something else. Security

that no human can offer another.

A well-being that we already have,

though we don’t remember where we put it.

And so we pray. Please. I need. I want. I hope.

Even the Thank You is a longing.

And in Spring, the Earth replies,

Yes. Here. Now. You are bone of my bones,

And flesh of my flesh. You are woman.

The winds come, and the seasons cycle,

and change brings answer to our prayers

and reason to pray.