Loving God –
You are the eternal spring of living water, the source of life, of peace and of purpose.
You are an ocean of mercy and grace.
You are the storm and you are the calm.
It is no accident that our tears – when we are deeply moved, whether in joy or pain – are salted like the sea, pouring out as water. Everything has its being in you – we live, move, breathe and swim in you.
We ask, Lord, simply for a deeper sense of your presence, of your indwelling spirit – for a heart more like yours, for ears to listen, for eyes to see the world with your deep, aching compassion. Help us remember each morning to strap on our spiritual swimming goggles for the day so that each person, each challenge, each opportunity can be seen through your lenses.
We pray for peace, Lord. We pray for our world’s wounds to be healed.
We pray for those who lead and those who wish to lead.
We pray for the oppressed, the marginalized, the lost, those who feel forsaken. May they come to know you through your servants’ active love and care.
As I wrestle with God and the why-questions I know He probably won’t answer (in this life), this is sort of the underlying bigger question: why pray if God is in charge/in control/going to do what He wills regardless of whether it matches our wants and desires? OR, to put it another way: does prayer make a difference?
July was quite the month for dreaming. I wish I could remember if I ate or drank differently. Or maybe all those tears during June and earlier in the month helped wash away the debris for a while so I could “see” more clearly inside my subconscious. Endlessly I dreamed of being in or moving out of a temporary place; of cleaning up a rental we’d lived in a long while.
Mary is Steve’s stepmom. She and Steve’s father were married in the early 1980’s; they were quite happy until his sudden death in 1996. When she remarried in 2002 – much to her surprise, as she had claimed she would never marry again – we were beyond delighted. Tom was the perfect partner. His relatively sudden death from cancer in late 2014 rocked all our boats hard. To lose another grandchild (Mark is actually the second, following our nephew, John, who died at 7 years of age in 2001 due to complications from leukemia) on the heels of that profound loss was and is devastating.