Thursday, July 16, 2015
Dear God,
In your wisdom you brought us together. You challenged us to consider the life, power, and love of your spirit. You showed us the vast space of silence, that wondrous and glorious home to eternity where love abounds, insights wait to unfold, and hope is ever-present. You breathed into us the air of trust, that precious gift that allows the whole of a person to open up to you and reveal the inner rumblings of trouble, deep questions, and hurts deeper yet. You invited us into your home, gave us spiritual food and drink, and then made us your friends.
Our covenant group has knelt at your feet for almost 30 years. You have taught us valuable lessons of faith. You have moved us from darkness to light and back to darkness so we might learn and cherish the light even more. You have opened painful scabs of hurt and placed on them the oil of healing. You have spoken words of hope in our despair. You have called us to attention when we wandered in the far country. You have methodically dismantled our preconceived notions and required us to rethink, reconsider, and reflect upon our relationship to you, to each other, to the church, and to the world. You have given us opportunity to lay down our idols, those idiot things we rally around when we are low, doubting, or angry. You have lifted us up when we fell into the abyss. You have blessed us when we cursed ourselves for our failure to be like you. You have brought us miracles when we thought things were hopeless. You have refreshed us when we were weary, remade us when we forgot who we were, and reconciled us when we couldn't find our way home. You have done this, Mighty and Compassionate God.
Holy, holy, holy
is your name,
Almighty God;
we bow
before you
in reverence
and awe
and devotion.
We marvel
in your kindness
and mercy
and give thanks
for your
remarkable work
in our lives.
We revel
in the joy
of faith
that transforms us,
reconciles us,
renews us,
restores us,
remakes us,
and challenges us
to live
as children
of the light.
Yours forever, Andrea

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