Connecting with God, each other, and ourselves in the broken and beautiful

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Ask where it hurts…

A version of this post appeared in my “Monday Manna” newsletter. If you’d like to receive this directly to your inbox, subscribe here.

Good morning, friends ~

I am sending you so much courage and comfort at the start of this new week. I was going to write today about thresholds, but that will wait for next time. There’s been a lot to hold recently, especially last Friday. I’m still very much processing the news from the Supreme Court, but what I will say now is this. In the vortex of emotions, I’ve been turning to the beautiful voice of Ruby Sales and her question— “where does it hurt?”

On Saturday morning, I laced up my running shoes and re-listened to an interview she did some years ago.This hero and public theologian in the Civil Rights Movement believes asking one another this question is how we break bondage, cross divides, and actually move forward. We look into the eyes of the person we struggle to understand, the choices which mar our sense of humanity, and we ask, “where does it hurt?” Where is the pain? What is driving this?

We peel back layers, one at a time, and ask if we can share some space safe enough for vulnerably seeing one another. Behind fear, behind violence, behind oppression is always, always, always pain. And redemptive anger is always about transformation, holy trust, and unshakeable love. 

As Ruby, the one who was shot at as a teenager marching in peaceful protest, said, “I love everybody. I love everybody. I love everybody in my heart.” 

When the surrounding overwhelm gets bigger my prayers/pleas get simpler. My repeated prayers-turned-mantras in these weeks have been…

“Come, Lord Jesus.” 

“Your kin-dom come.” 

In me. In God’s world. 

When I’m picking up dirty laundry in my kids’ room always sitting on the floor right next to their hamper, I look up at the poster on the wall right above it. It’s a sketch of Amanda Gorman, the inaugural poet, with an excerpt of her poem, “The Hill We Climb”—“there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it, if only we’re brave enough to be it.” 

You’ve got the light, my friend.

You are the light. 

And God’s kin-dom is coming through you. 

Ask where it hurts. 


While I often share a prayer from my book, Ash and Starlight, this week I want to share a version of the Lord’s Prayer which is opening things for me in a powerful way. While praying the Lord’s Prayer can easily become rote and routine, I’m finding it freshly meaningful in light of all we’re experiencing. This is a communal prayer we share with siblings all across the globe, not to mention the cloud of witnesses who have gone before us. It’s foundationally we/us, not I/me. As you pray this, friend, your voice joins a chorus of people standing right beside you. And this prayer was one of Jesus’ gifts to us.

This version I am loving is from the First Nations Version: An Indigenous Translation of the New Testament

From Matthew 6:9-13

“O Great Spirit, our Father from above, we honor your name as sacred and holy. 

Bring your good road to us, where the beauty of your ways in the spirit-world above is reflected in the earth below. 

Provide for us day by day—the elk, the buffalo, and the salmon. The corn, the squash, and the wild rice. All the things we need for each day. 

Release us from things we have done wrong, in the same way we release others from the things done wrong to us. 

Guide us away from the things that tempt us to stray from your good road, and set us free from the evil one and his worthless ways. Aho! May it be so!” 


Our little family ran, strollers in tow, in the Evanston Race Against Hate on June 19, both Juneteenth and Father’s Day.  It was an incredible sight to witness and a privilege to participate in. The race honors Ricky Byrdsong, a former Northwestern Basketball coach who was shot by a white supremacist while walking in his neighborhood with his two young kids. I will share that my seven-year-old daughter was nervous about going to the race. “There might be guns there,” she said to me. And it was a painful parenting moment for me to be unable to promise her otherwise. (Speaking of miraculous manna…  the bipartisan safer communities act just signed!!! If you haven’t already signed up with everytown, they make contacting leaders and staying informed incredibly accessible. Do it here.) 

Above the hamper, as mentioned before….


* Find Ash and Starlight here

* A partner at Illustrated Ministry and I put together an activity kit to go with Matthew Paul Turner’s latest book, I am God’s Dream. This book is a beautiful addition to Turner’s collection. I love his books so much. Download the activity kit here

* I am continuing to train for the Chicago marathon this fall for the Alzheimer’s Association in honor of my mom.  I wrote about it  here.  My fundraising page is here. If you have a loved one with Alzheimer’s or are a caregiver, I would love to know. I’m keeping a running list (no pun intended), and it’s been a powerful partner for me as I run. 

You Don’t Need to Get More Done

A version of this post appeared in my “Monday Manna” newsletter. If you’d like to receive this directly to your inbox, subscribe here.

Good morning, friends ~

Welcome to this new day and morning. A start of a new day is resurrection time—time to let Jesus bring to new life in you healing from yesterday’s hurts, peace from yesterday’s anxieties, strength from yesterday’s exhaustion, gratitude from yesterday’s disappointments… Last week had its challenges both personally and nationally, and maybe you carried a heavy heart too. I hope whatever needs healing and resurrection in you this new day and week is finding some fresh life this morning, especially in the subtle and small. 

Speaking of resurrection, it’s been a few since I last wrote here…April was both a blur and a bummer, and I, for one, am ready for a fresh month (I might add I saw a headline from yesterday saying Chicago had one day of sunshine in the last 43 days, so there’s that). 

On to today’s musings…have you had the experience where something keeps appearing in your path, over and over and over again? One of my friends describes it as, “lightning crackling on his skin.” It can take a number of times for me to awaken and notice, but I give thanks the Spirit is persistent and lovingly relentless. 

In the last few months, I’ve experienced this with an ancient text I had never read, the Tao te ching, which literally translates, The Book of the Way. It’s an ancient Chinese text, attributed to Lao-tzu, referenced as a  guide for balanced, serene, generous living.

Different books I picked up (on very divergent topics, including a running manual!) were based on it, an article I opened a journal to, a poem a mentor shared, a gift sent from a friend…It kept appearing, to the point where I started laughing aloud each time it did. It felt like God’s little smile. A, “when are you going to read this?” reminder. 

What’s especially beautiful and powerful to me in this is how the message of the Tao te ching (which I am finally reading) is one of non-striving flow, and that is exactly how it has come into my life. 

I’m awakening to how much of fear, stress, and anxiety comes from the pressure I feel to accomplish. To feel that whatever I’m doing is productive and in service to someone. To earn my keep and have something to show for myself. A writer and entrepreneur I appreciate and follow came out with coffee mugs recently saying, “Lists are my love language.” I sure relate to that. 

It is pretty unsettling when I sit still and ask, “what am I trying to prove here? To whom?” 

Because the honest truth is what my husband once said to me as we stood in the kitchen, me spinning in circles of questions and doubt—”you don’t have to do a single thing more in your life to have already done enough.” he said. 

And I would say the same to you. 

Anne Lamott, one of our patron saints for life, had a soul-nourishing interview with Kelly Corrigan last year in which she said, “the purpose of life is not to get more done.” 

So if you need this invitation/permission today like I have, here it is.

You don’t need to get more done (whatever the more is). God is celebrating beautiful you right now. Your calling is in who you are becoming, not what you are doing. 

And lastly, a nugget from the Tao te ching….

Less and less do you need to force things,

until finally you arrive at non-action. 

When nothing is done,

nothing is left undone.”  


A prayer all about grace and non-striving from my book, Ash and Starlight: Prayers for the Chaos and Grace of Daily Life. 

When I need to rest in grace

Today, Merciful God,

I lay down my private,

clenched-hands-salvation projects.

I fall, arms wide, eyes open,

into your ocean of grace…

All because you are

trustworthy in what you say,

faithful in what you do,

loving in how you respond,

patient in what you ask.

You’ve taught me how

to take in the struggle….

to look at it,

hold it in my hands,

allow it to teach me,

and let it lead me

toward a new place

of delightful dependence on you.

A gorgeous, expansive place of

release, joy, and trust.

You’re showing me it’s not who I am

keeping me from you

and what you desire,

but who I keep saying I’m not.

So at least today,

I let go of who I am

that I might be stretched

into what I must become.

I’ll ride the waves,

knowing grace upon grace

promises good land ahead.

In the love of the Great Surfer…


John 1:16 * Romans 6:14 * Ephesians 2:8

“For by grace you have been saved

through faith, and this is not your

own doing; it is the gift of God…”

– Ephesians 2:8

Something that nourished me recently…

A couple weeks ago, I decided I was finally going to get myself a copy of the Tao te ching, and so our little family headed to a local bookstore on independent bookseller’s day. We found my book while we were there. And I’ll give you two guesses as to what book was right next to my book. The Tao te ching. Mmm hmm. It’s real. 

Here we are with the discovery at Winnetka’s Book Stall…

This interview between Padraig O’Tuama and Krista Tippett which I have now listened to more than once. If you listen to nothing else, skip to the last portion where Padraig reads the last pages of his book. Incredibly, incredibly beautiful. But as one of my friends has said, “I could listen to Padraig O’Tuama read the phonebook and have a transcendent experience.” 

Ash & Starlight, plus other good things….

* I shared in my last Monday Manna how I am (with hope and prayer and fingers crossed!) going to run the Chicago marathon this fall for the Alzheimer’s Association in honor of my mom. I wrote about it  here.  My fundraising page is here. If you have a loved one with Alzheimer’s, I would love to know. I’m keeping a running list (no pun intended), and carry this cloud of witnesses with me as I’m training. 

Alzheimer’s affects nearly six million people in the United States right now. It’s another major area of much disparity for our sisters and brothers of color when it comes to diagnosis and care. Your support makes a true and meaningful difference.

Thank you, thank you, thank you friends! 

* Find Ash and Starlight here

Grace and peace and presence and gratitude to each of you today…. 

Love and Light,


Chicago Marathon, here we come…

My mom and me last Christmas…

I wanted to get this post out on my birthday as it feels in keeping with how I want to mark and begin this new year. In some ways, I’m placing a stake in the ground of Hope. I’m currently down for the count with COVID (it was a matter of time, but Holy Week for a clergy family, really?!) and I’ve also been nursing a hamstring injury to health. I’m not running in the way I’d expected to be right now. But…”faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things unseen…”

When my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, we were shocked. It didn’t run in her family. She was so young. This wasn’t the path we’d planned, especially after my father’s death to cancer eight years ago.

Alzheimer’s can feel like the great thief, slowly and stealthily taking away memories…it can seem a cloud cover hanging over each effort at connection. But as our family grieves the changes my mom has handled with such grace and strength, God is opening my eyes afresh to some promises.

What is most true and beautiful in our beloved can never be taken away.

Any memories, understanding, and knowledge now hidden are safely tucked in the chambers of God’s heart, waiting for reemergence in light and love on eternity’s shoreline.

Though we may forget, God always remembers.

Though we may feel lost, we are always found.

There can be peace even here.

Running has been a lifeline companion for me since childhood. It’s one place I turn to find myself, to find God. For the last twenty-five years, my greatest joys and sorrows have been kneaded into the soles of my running shoes.

The last marathon I ran was the Boston Marathon of 2013. I was two blocks away from the bombs going off as I met my husband and parents in the family meeting area. I wrote about that experience here.

I knew if and when I ran another marathon, it would need to be for something and someone bigger than me. These recent years have created a crucible I never would have chosen, between the pandemic and all the personal upheaval in our family. And yet, when life feels like an enormous tidal wave, ready to take you out to sea, this is the time to grab the hands of those you love and let those waters come, trusting the One who speaks over waters.

With your support, my brother, sister-in-law, and I will all run Chicago Marathon together this fall. I am running for my mom, but I am running for every single person I love whose heart holds the ache of an Alzheimer’s-touched life.

I will be keeping a list of people and stories as I train. If you have a loved one who had or has Alzheimer’s, I would be so blessed and honored if you would share their name with me that I might run for them. And for you.

All money raised will benefit the Alzheimer’s Association and its work to enhance care, support programs, and research toward treatment and an eventual cure (Please, Jesus!) for Alzheimer’s disease.

To visit my fundraising page for ALZ stars, go here.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Though I know nothing else,

still let me know you. 

And if a morning dawns

when I can no longer name you

or remember to call you,

be more immediately present to me then

than my own confusion, than my own breath.

Be to me a peace and a light

and an abiding sense that I am loved and held

and that all will be well.” 

( From “A liturgy for those facing the slow loss of memory,” in Every Moment Holy by Douglas Kaine McKelvey)

Marking One Year of COVID-19….

Photo by Susanne Moorman Rowe

This week marks approximately one year since shut-downs in the United States began in response to COVID-19. The landscape of life right now still feels foreign, even as it grows more familiar every day. I wrote this prayer long before the pandemic – a prayer included in Ash and Starlight: Prayers for the Chaos and Grace of Daily Life – yet it resonates with my heart’s deepest cries and hopes as we cross this anniversary threshold.

These wounds will someday bless, and in countless ways, already are.

When I need God to redeem this painful, hard, sad thing (From Ash and Starlight: Prayers for the Chaos and Grace of Daily Life)

Wonder Worker,

When I peered up from the hole 

and saw no way out…

When what was taken 

away gave no warning…

When I didn’t think I 

had the courage

(or even the energy)

to live into a life looking 

nothing like it did before…

Something was happening.

The thing I thought would break me –

that did break me –

is now making me.

Great is the mystery of faith

The pieces of life’s puzzle 

come together here and there,

or shockingly in a big patch at once,

and I see you…

active and good in all things.

Your power to redeem –

to take the most painful deaths

and birth from them living, breathing gifts,

taking my own breath away in awe.

You do not create pain for me to grow

or cause the heartache of my soul,

but are the expert Shaper of life’s ashes. 

Somehow this terrible thing –

when given in earnest to you today

(and many tomorrows from now!)

becomes an open channel where

something amazing will flow.

A passage echoing

with a tender Voice –

You can trust me 

with all the things….

in all the things…

You will lift me from this hole.

I will wail and wonder with gratitude. 

I’ll begin a new kind of dance,

letting my limp remind 

my soul and world

how broken bodies 

learn exquisite new rhythms.

With you, pain finds a home

in something larger than itself.

And sacred scars hold haven over

wounds which will someday bless.


Genesis 45:4-8 * Joel 2:25 * 2 Corinthians 4:16-18  

“So we do not lose heart. Even though our

 outer nature is wasting away, our inner 

nature is being renewed day by day…

preparing us for an eternal weight of glory 

beyond all measure…” 2 Corinthians 4:16-17 

A prayer in response to this week….

Photo by Lori Archer Raible

“Jesus answered, ‘For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.’ Pilate asked him, ‘What is truth?’ – John 18:37-38

Refugee King, 

“I saw what I saw and I can’t forget it…

I heard what I heard and I can’t go back…

I know what I know and I can’t deny it…”*

You linked your only life’s arms

with those who were fleeing 

and those who were forgotten, 

with those who were abused

and those laid bare to brutality. 

From the manger to the cross,

and all the broken places in between,

you bore a truth

the world tried to bury. 

You made your home in vulnerable spaces

and I need you to free me from this 

prison of privilege so I can 

make my home there too. 

What I saw and heard and know…

make it burrow into my bones,

becoming the very frame

of a convicted, confessional life. 

Repentance plus courage has 

always been the only way forward, 

and no cross or confederate flag

has the last word with your children. 

It is what I do now that reveals my 

heart’s true treasure. 

Will I be an extremist for love,

an agitator for justice?** 

Can I lean in toward those

I don’t even desire to understand?

(and blame from the bottom of my heart!)

Will you lift me to the rock higher than I,

transcending my outrage

and instilling in my soul’s eye

the kin-dom who basic foundation

seems swallowed by those lost

to even themselves. 

“What is truth,” a fearful man

with a trembling, hiding,

hateful heart asked you. 

As your answer, you gave your life. 

Please, God of mercy, take mine. 


* Inspired by two songs, Liz Vice, “Refugee King,” from the Single Album, 2019, and Sara Groves, “I saw what I saw,” from “Tell Me What You Know” Album, November 6, 2007  

**My thanks to Jan Edmiston for her post and MaryAnn McKibben Dana for her reflection on the profound words of MLK . 

A Lenten Prayer….

Photo by Lori Archer Raible

On this first Sunday of our Lenten journey, here is a prayer for our pilgrimage from Ash and Starlight….

Redeeming One,

You came, Jesus, to show me the

best way to live and walk this path.

You let yourself feel the depth 

of need surrounding you.

You kept a purity of focus.

You always, always chose love.

All with bravery and trust.

I need you, Jesus, to walk 

beside me now,

helping me reflect, 

confess, prepare…

This Lenten path puts before me

the questions and realizations 

I so often stuff away.

With each step, I’m recognizing 

barriers built through my 

rote habits and unrealized prejudices, 

my base-line grudges and routine neglects…

I must acknowledge compromises 

that drew me further away

from my own soul and your calling.

But I’m coming back home.

Hone my desires to that

pure focus you held.

Help me fast from self-absorption,

finding my sustenance in the 

rich profundity of suffering-love.

Draw my heart and feet forward

on this path that’s both total mystery

and innate to who I am in you.

A minor melody marks our cadence,

yet you tune my ears for more than that.

Resurrection is always the final number. 

Help me walk, Savior Lord,

with hope amid heaviness,

ears to the ground.

I will welcome my mortality

and the potential in ashes and dust.


Psalm 51:17 * Isaiah 53:4-6 * Luke 9:23-24

“If any want to become my followers, 

let them deny themselves and take up 

their cross daily and follow me…” Luke 9:23 

Star Words to Guide Us….

Our family’s star words on the refrigerator – Jeff’s is missing (his is resilience!) 🙂

Did any of you choose a “word” for the year? Before January embraces February, I wanted to do a short reflection on this. In our faith congregation, we celebrate “Star Gift Sunday” on Epiphany. We have hundreds of words printed out on pretty cards, and each person receives one (the kids pass them out).

It is “random,” but I believe the Spirit is, of course, at work in bringing the word – and the ensuing learning/growth! – each of us needs. Like the guiding star followed by the magi, we each are gifted with a guiding word to hone and direct us in the upcoming year. A word through which we can experience God and the world with fresh intention.

To be honest, some of my words in years past have kind of ticked me off. The Epiphany after my second child was born, I got the word “caring” and I wanted to hand it right back. At the time, I felt like all I did was try and take care of people with their needs (read: I really needed a break). But in that year, I broke two bones and had some other life circumstances that required a lot of caring from others! I experienced the caring of loving people around me and with it, unexpected dimensions of my star word.

And then there was last year, when my word was tolerance. Delving more into the various meanings of the word really challenged me. One vein of understanding was the ability to endure and thrive in unfavorable conditions. Another was the willingness to hold opinions or beliefs of others with which I didn’t agree. Both of these definitions found deep resonance in my life last year.

And now this year, the word I received was hospitality. I’m eager to see what God will reveal to and within me about this word. And I want to know – what does hospitality look like to you?

I’d also love to know if you’ve chosen a word for 2020 (love the ring of that!!) and why. We have such power when approaching our lives with intention and focus, and a “simple” word can help us do that.

Here’s to growth and new insight in the months to come, and gratitude for all the ways God will be at work – stretching, shaping, comforting, and holding us.

Yoga, Prayer, and Connection

Centering, breathing, preparing to enter in…..

One of my big passions is holistic spirituality – the way we are threaded together in a seamless way – body, heart, soul, mind. I experience God powerfully through my body. This is why I was so excited about and grateful for the capstone to book events for Ash and Starlight: Prayers for the Chaos and Grace of Daily Life this fall. Last weekend was a very special and meaningful yoga class led and created by my dear friends, Cindi Odle and Betsy Patton, which incorporated some of my loves – yoga and prayer (which aren’t two separate things, in my opinion).

As a trained Baptiste Yoga instructor, Cindi led a meditative flow class in which we used the ten sequences of Baptiste yoga to form a framework for prayer through our bodies and spirits : Integration, Awakening, Vitality, Equanimity, Grounding, Igniting, Stability, Opening, Release, Rejuvenation, and Deep Rest.

Betsy Perry Patton, Me, Cindi Odle

With each phase, I read a portion of a prayer from Ash and Starlight connecting with the movement of our bodies. During “Awakening” as the class did sun salutations, I read “When I need a fresh spirit.” During “Vitality” as people moved through crescent lunges, side angles, and vinyasas, I read, “When I need to breathe and live into something new.” We flowed through each phase in body and breath, and Cindi encouraged people to rest in the prayerful words, letting them center and hold our hearts.

And at the end, we laid in savasana while listening to Josh Groban’s O Holy Night. I laid on my mat with tears rolling down my face, feeling a culmination of so many steps on such a long journey. One that is not done, though a significant bookmark made. A leg and chapter that’s taught me so much and whose lessons I’m still processing.

I have been thinking so much of one of my favorite quotes by Dag Hammerskjold…the prayer I’m carrying forward in this ending and beginning…..

“For all that has been – thanks. For all that will be – yes.”

Some recent prayers….

A collection discovered on our walk along Lake Michigan…It’s beautiful when people leave gifts for the strangers who will come after…

Hello, friends! Blessings in this in-between space of summer ending and autumn starting. I recently made the switch to sharing the bulk of my writing and updates through Monday Manna which I wrote about here.

With Monday Manna, I share a prayer, a place to channel your prayerful energy, something that nourished me in the last week, and some updates on book news. You can sign up through the box on my website.

I want to now share here, however, some of the most recent prayers I’ve sent through Monday Manna. May they be nourishment for you as you head into the weekend.


Companioning One,

When I begin to feel the fears rise

and the pressures push

me toward that cursed corner –

the dark and crushing space

saying, “it all depends on me” –

help me rise.

Lift me out and above

this swirl of deceptions, God,

and remind me I am not alone,

or expected to know everything.

My eyes just need to be in the right place.

Reground my understanding

 that while I am called to faithfulness

with what I have,

where I am,

the make-or-break power of my days

is beyond my skill.

Give me one reminder this week, God,

of your presence in the details….

Just enough to shake me from

this stupor of self-reliance.

I commit today’s work to you,

and thank you in advance for what you’ll

make of it.



Loving God,

Please make me a vessel today

of your creative, life-giving spirit.

When I feel too tired to

invent, create, or decide,

remind me all I must do

is remember the Source

to Whom I’m connected.

Can beautiful holiness

be less about that for which I strive

and more about what I allow

to make a home in me?

Plant yourself on the

shoulder of my soul.

I will open and rest

while you flow and work.



Reassuring God,

Sometimes, the work

before me feels like

a cog in the wheel

of endless turning,

no progress.

Each spin presents

the déjà vu of questions…

Is there meaningful worth

in this?

Is this what I am *supposed*

to be doing?

All those haunting interrogations

surfacing a steady low-grade anxiety…

Keep me today from apathy, God,

but also protect me from despair.

Remind me of the promise and truth

that most wheels are connected to something else,

and through continued faithfulness,

what I thought was an endless wheel

brings me to a new horizon,

a fresh perspective,

and a surge of strength.



Loving One, 

I enter the week with open hands, 
asking for the trust, 
the humility, 
the contentment
to find holiness in all I experience. 

Help me cultivate
an awareness toward abundance
so often disguised
in forms I miss,
or even reject.

I count with concern

what appears available,

looking right over what’s

under my own feet.

What’s within my own heart. 

Keep me from measuring – 
myself or those around me – 
and instead, see with awe
the limitless ocean of grace in which
we’re all floating.


A prayer for tonight’s Lights for Liberty…

Tonight, people are gathering in communities all across our world for “Lights of Liberty.” Perhaps the one thing giving me any hope in recent weeks has been witnessing the Spirit of God alive and at work through active people – people who will not tolerate this kind of treatment of migrants and refugees. Children of God who are our neighbors. Our collective family in life. 

Alongside the Lights of Liberty gatherings, I wanted to offer an option. Going to one of these collective events is not doable for everyone tonight, including my family. Yet we can all – no matter where we are – give powerful, whole-hearted witness and join the communion of saints. I know it is not the same as being together in person, but we believe and know there is more that binds us than physical presence.

Most gatherings will be around 7:00 or 8:00 p.m. tonight (relatively, depending on time zone). Join in this communal light by creating some in your own home, or wherever you may be. 

Light a candle. 

Breathe and bless. Focus your mind and your heart’s attention on the world’s children detained in places lacking dignity, compassion, and basic needs. 

Here is a prayer I wrote some time ago called, “When I cry for the world,” and it is what my family will read tonight. 

When I cry for the world 

Merciful Jesus,

I cry for our world. 

I cry over broken bodies 

and broken homes 

and broken hearts.

I cry over violence 

and exclusion 

and indifference. 

I cry most of all over the children! 

Through my body and breath,

I pray for your kin-dom…

For allto have 

nourishing food and nurturing homes, 

edifying work and safe, skilled schools,

compassionate healthcare and dignified wages, 

soft beds to fall into at the day’s close…

For the children to be protected,

the elderly honored, 

and both hugged every single day…

For reparative justice,

cherished diversity,

and peaceful purity in what’s

breathed, eaten, drunk. 

I cry and I pray, 

confessing the many times 

I’ve declared what I deserve

rather than asked what I could give.

I cry and I pray, 

knowing I’m complicit in the pain 

and essential to the healing. 

I cry and I pray, 

trusting my tears mingle with your own, 

hoping this tearful river softens and shapes

the hardest canyons of injustice – 

or at least lays the groundwork.

I pray and I act, 

moving my body and resources 

toward your kin-dom vision,

trusting my skills and gifts 

carry forward the new, just world you imagine

and are always bringing.  

I remember this work is mine to do. 

“Christ has no body but yours,

No hands, no feet on earth but yours,

Yours are the eyes with which he looks 

Compassion on this world,

Yours are the feet with which 

he walks to do good,

Yours are the hands, with which

he blesses all the world…”* 

O Jesus, have mercy 

and help me. 


You may choose to take a picture of your candle and text to other friends and family, or share on social media with #lightsforliberty (an instance when I actually think social media can do some great good!). 

My husband recently wrote a letter about the border crisis that will be going out to our congregation with some places to give, ways to learn, and advocacy opportunities. Near the end of his letter, he says, “our first and last job as followers of Jesus is to pray. There is power in prayer, in listening to God, in interceding for those who are suffering. And yet we must remember “thoughts and prayers” are not something we just blithely tweet after a crisis. Authentic prayer always changes us and impels us to action. As 1 John says, we are called to love not just “in word or speech, but in truth and action.” We encourage you to pray for the migrant families, for the political leaders and government agents on both sides of the border, for non-profit and religious leaders. We invite you to find ways to talk to your children about this crisis and include their voices in your prayers.”

I believe with every fiber of my being in prayer’s power. And I deeply thank you for holding hands in the circle tonight. As Glennon Doyle so often says, “we belong to each other.”  

O Lord, hear our prayer.

*Quote in my prayer is widely attributed to St. Teresa of Avila (1515–82), but not found in any of her writings according to numerous sources, so maybe written by someone else. Still, it’s beautiful. 

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