It has been a war to return to posting on a regular, weekly basis. Today I complete my first 3-post week in a long time. Hopefully it is not the last. A prayer seems fitting for today - may this carry you into your gathering and recreating to come.

Father, the blasting sounds are loud.

Deafening, even.

Pain resonates in our ears -

...for those we've never met.

...for those in our immediate family.

...for those close enough to touch but not close enough to know their favorite film or food.

We are all part of this fabric, the drinking-deep-life, berit olam, Kingdom of God.

We are all part of the world with you-in-action, if we choose, or us-in-action, if we defer.

The sound of pain is loud, even in the halls of the world's true King.

Help us know that pain is shaping - like a river over rough-hewn rocks

We become ourselves, the you-desired-ourselves, when our edges are blunted

and our faces are relaxed through the pain of trusting you in loss.

Of knowing that even if we are in pain, we are not apart from you.

We are with you.

We are with.

You.

Let this be enough, Good Father.

A gift of bread, instead of stones.

Come Lord Jesus.

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