Romans 12:15

Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.

Lord, let me stand

with my neighbor in joy.

Let me stand with them

in revelation, in certitude,

in those times when life explodes

in confetti and streamers,

and all is right,

and all is right.

Let me share in a belly

laugh of innocence.

Let me feel the Holy Strength

of laughter in those whose souls

wander, unfettered and free.

Let me rejoice with those

who rejoice.

Let me share with them

the tears of victory.

Lord, may I stand

with my neighbor

in all things,

not just in joy,

but in mourning and loss.

And so, let me weep, Lord,

with those who weep.

Let me lean into that pain

and lift it for them,

just a little bit—

so that they

have room

to breathe.

Lord, may no one on this earth

ever weep alone.

And in times of joy

and in times of pain,

Lord, let my eyes be forever

filled with tears.

Amen.

John 6:67-68

So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?”  Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

Lord, where?

Lord, where could I go?

Lord, who would I go to?

There is only You, Lord.

There is only ever You.

It’s why I won’t run

from the storm.

It’s why I won’t give way

to the wind.

It’s why I keep my eyes open

even as the dark clouds build

there across the ocean.

The waves crash.

They tower.

They pound.

They tear apart

and rip away.

But I dig in.

I dig my feet in the sand.

I take a breath,

and I wait for You, Lord,

because I know,

if You are anywhere,

You are here

in the midst of the storm.

And so, I take another breath

and hold it and wait,

because I know

where to find You.

With every step You take

across the water,

the waves will sigh,

their breath catch

and then release as they let

go and calm down.

With Your every breath, Lord,

the winds will settle and still.

And You, Lord,

the Rising Sun,

the Risen Lord,

the Light of the World—

from You, Lord,

the darkness will flee,

and the sky will be wiped

clean and made fresh

and the birds will fly
and sing again.

Lord, to whom would I turn?

I not only wait for You,

I know You and I know You

are coming—soon now, soon.

Amen.

Isaiah 26:3

You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

Do you trust me?

Lord, speak to me

when I am anxious.

Lord, speak to me

when the nights seem

to last far too long.

Do you trust me?

Lord, sing to me, softly

when I wrestle with sleep.

Lord, wake me with hymns

when the sunrise isn’t enough.

Do you trust me?

Lord, feed me with the Bread of Life

when my spirit is weak and starving.

Lord, let it rain streams of Living Water

when my spirit is dried and desiccated

and left to wander lost in the desert.

Do you trust me?

Lord, take my hand

when I am all alone.

Lord, guide me out

of the wilderness.

Do you trust me?

Lord, carry me

when my strength is spent.

Lord, comfort me.

Lord, heal me.

Lord, lift me.

Lord, love me.

Do you trust me?

Yes.

Amen.

Isaiah 6:8

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I; send me!”

Here I am.

Those are Your words, Lord.

Those words are Your prayer to me.

Here I am.

And they echo in my soul.

They grow louder, not softer.

They do not fade away.

Here I am.

They are Your words, Lord.

At night before I sleep,

they settle down and curl up,

nestle themselves close to my heart.

Here I am.

In the morning, they throw open

the blinds and bring with them

the heavenly glow of the rising sun.

Here I am.

The words never leave me.

You never leave me, Lord.

Your words are both

a promise and a plea

to be seen, to be known.

Here I am.

Your words are a call that takes root deep within,

but it is not my spirit that nourishes Your words,

rather Your words feed me.

Save me.

Heal me.

Strengthen me.

Here I am.

Your words become a part of me,

until that day I can say back to you—

Here I am, Lord.

Send me.

Amen.

Psalm 139:8

The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me;
    your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever.

Yesterday’s prayer fades fast,

like words written in water

on Moses’ rock, evaporating

like the mist at sunrise.

I wake each morning

and must renew,

must begin again,

and reach deep inside,

scraping the last scraps

of hope from my soul.

This is how I will build my day.

No—this is how God will build my day.

I will offer up to Him all that is still pure—

my innocence, my optimism, my faith—

but is beginning to wither under

the harsh light of the world’s judgement.

I will offer up to God everything

the world has tried to throw away,

my passion, my zeal, my desire to serve,

my desire to heal and to love—

to God I will lift these up, whatever remains,

and then I will wait for God

to do His God-thing

and take these scraps, these castaways

and replant them in fertile soil

and nourish them with Living Water.

I will wait for God to speak,

to sing to all that’s good within me.

I will wait for all that’s good to grow.

I will do this daily.

Every morning I will begin again.

Every morning I will pray.

Amen.

2 Timothy 1:7

 For God didn’t give us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-control.

Though I may be afraid, Lord,

the spirit You have put inside me

is not one of fear, but one of love.

And that love fuels the light within me,

that love fuels the fight within me.

My resolve is pure and strong.

Fear will not win this day.

If I am to be Your light, Lord,

if I am to be Your light keeper,

if I am to run that last mile

as the bearer of Your holy flame,

then fill me to bursting with Your love.

Let Your love radiate through my body.

Let the heat of Your light ignite my spirit

and let it burn only for righteousness and truth.

If fear rides in on darkness,

then love rides in on light,

brandishing the Sword of the Spirit

and driving the darkness back

over the barren and hungry desert

from which it crawled out.

We are the watchmen.

We are the light keepers.

We are the first to see

the approaching darkness

and the first to sound the warning.

We stand firm.

We stand ready.

We stand filled with Your light, Lord,

and able, with Your love, to withstand any storm.

We stand, empowered with the Spirit of Love.

Amen.

Psalm 138:3

On the day I called, you answered me,
    you increased my strength of soul.

Lord, strengthen my soul.

Breathe life to my spirit.

Lay your cool hand

on my forehead

and bring comfort

to my feverish grief.

In times of darkness,

in times of blindness,

draw out the light

from deep within me.

Coax out that light

with reminders of better days,

of sweet summer showers,

of bike rides in the rain,

of innocence captured,

in that moment you let go

of the handlebars and lift

your hands to the sky.

Remind me of the days

when anything was possible

and faith unnecessary

as the One who is always faithful,

has been and forever will be present.

Give oxygen.

Give fuel.

Lord, feed the light inside of me.

Let Your Spirit-filled altar candle burn.

Feed the flames of Your Holy Fire.

For no darkness can touch,

no darkness can snuff out

the light that grows from within.

Amen.

Psalm 6:3

My soul is in deep anguish.
    How long, Lord, how long?

How long, O Lord, how long?

It’s like the refrain to a song

that I cannot get out of my head,

an anguished plea whose notes

are played and felt deep within my soul,

a song played out of step, out of tempo,

out of time with the anxious beating of my heart.

How long, O Lord, how long?

The whole world groans under the weight

of so much suffering, of so much illness,

of so much soul sickness that it cannot rest.

The world sits awake at night,

in the darkness, clutching its blanket

to its chin and calling out—

How long, O Lord, how long?

Lord, where is the light in all this darkness,

the lighthouse swinging its massive beam of hope

from horizon to horizon?

Lord, I am so desperate for Your light,

I would take just a candle in the window.

I would take the tiniest flicker of hope

and I would follow it.

I would get down on my knees

and crawl to it.

Just show me the path, Lord,

and I promise I won’t walk alone.

I will grab the nearest hand

and together we will walk,

together we will take the hands

of others and we will all walk

out of the darkness,
out of the night,
out of helplessness and despair,

and move instead into a new morning,
a new sunrise where we can be bathed,
our spirits forever renewed in the light of hope.

Amen.

Job 19:25

For I know that my Redeemer lives ….

Lord on the mornings

I wake rough,

when everything feels

too tight

and the sunrise super itchy

on the one spot on my back

that I cannot reach,

when I’m ready to give up

on the day,

ready to roll over

and go back to sleep

before I have even taken

that first breath

and tasted the dawn,

on those days Lord,

lift me up,

gently please,

and set me on my feet.

Redeem for me the morning.

Hydrate me with hope.

Redeem for me the noonday sun.

Feed me the deliciously sweet fruit of faith

to strengthen me for the rest of the day.

Redeem for me the night

and let me hear, let me feel

Your love for me as You sing

to me a lullaby that only my soul

remembers the words to.

Redeem me for the day.

Redeem me for all the moments.

Let no second of my day

go untouched by You.

Amen.