Sunday, August 5, 2007

Dearest God,

Our lives hang in the balance. War is destroying lives. British children throw rocks at US children because of our role in Iraq. Bridges collapse. Mines flood. Children are murdered. Adopted children are abused, neglected. A precious humanity is prey to destruction. At any moment anywhere life can be snuffed out. All this is enough cause to live in fear. When will it happen to me? We ask ourselves.

Lord, when I pray, I never pray just for myself. I pray for all the world's peoples. How could I not? I have a responsibility to hold up the children of the world, many who are starving, suffering. They are part of me and I am part of them. Sometimes I pray for all those for whom no one prays. We are a human family taking up space on Mother Earth. This fragile home is filled with grief and sorrow. I wonder sometimes if gray, rainy days are not Mother crying for her children.

Dearest God, my hope, our hope rests in you. The way we live our lives, the attitudes we hold, the behaviors we exhibit when lived under your light are good lives, people looking out for one another. Whenever I hear a good news report, I know your light has shined, has been shared with someone else. I know your presence has touched a human soul who has acted on your behalf. I feel that inner joy that comes from light that has shined well.

I can become discouraged by world events of horror and pain. One life taken away, destroyed, ruined is one too many. Sometimes I cry when I hear yet another report of abuse. I am not a pollyanna. I know there is no eutopia. But I believe we are intended to live meaningful lives that reach out to others.

When I hear news that a person of means has started a foundation to help disadvantaged persons, I celebrate. I know you have touched someone's life in a deep way. And sometimes it isn't even a person of note. A school custodian who loved kids set up a trust so that at his death a playground would be created in his name. Now children run and play, swing, and go down slides. They laugh and run because someone had the foresight to do something for others. Such moments of love teach me again that my life is to count for something.

Hope brings the sun up in the morning and gives us rest from it at night. Hope is rain that falls on dry land. Hope is a prayer uttered. Hope is a hand reaching out. Hope is a crop that actually grows from a tiny seed. Hope is leaning on you. Hope is making another's dream come true. Hope is love in service. Hope is sharing someone's burden. Hope is... I know what it is to be hopeless and I know what it is like when hope returns. Life is restored, renewed. Hope is placing my hand in yours.

Tragedy strikes
cutting down life.
Sorrow and grief follow.
Pain
like nothing else
in life
rising up,
mincing the gut
into tiny pieces.
But you,
O Lord,
are present
to hold
each tiny piece.
None is gone;
the hand of the Master
holds them,
teeny, tiny fragments
of a life.
Hope
glues the pieces
back together,
one, then two, then three.
O God,
may I be
drawn to my knees
in prayer
for others
whose suffering
is excruciatingly painful.
Let your light
so shine
in me
that I will mirror
your hope
to the world.

Love, Andrea