prayer – Page 21 – katyandtheword

Thank God it’s Friday? Psalm 22

My God, My God why have you abandoned us?

The churches are empty, The offices, the schools, the streets are laid bare.

and demons are everywhere.

The diseases hide in plain sight, and surround us.

And we are stuck, alone, in our own personal pit left with only with our anxieties and depressions.

The powers that be are useless, stuck running around in circles, contradictions abound.

We are stuck in the mire. Things suck, and for those who have to watch their beloved ones die alone this is the shitstorm that never ends.

And God, you know I do not say shitstorm lightly.

We are stuck in the pit. Are very bodies are disturbed. I feel like not eating, then eating everything. I cannot sleep, but neither can I stay awake.

My God, My God. Why would you send your only son on earth to suffer with us.

To see those who are falling through the cracks: the maligned: Zacchaeus, the ignored: the woman by the well, the ones with long term diseases: the lepers and those living with disabilities: the lame and the blind.

Then to see friends die of disease. First Jairus’ daughter, then his beloved friend Lazarus.

Thank God it’s Friday, Good Friday. A day to cry out, a day to admit that not everything is alright. The kids are not alright, neither are their parents or grandparents. The doctors and nurses are not alright, nor the grocery and retail and mail workers. The teachers are not alright, nor the aunties or the uncles. Those who live with abusers, those who are not yet out to their family aren’t alright, those who are lonely and have no one to call are not alright. The thousands and thousands of people on unemployment are not alright.

Lord, why have you abandoned us? We are not alright. If it’s possible, please let this cup pass.

But your will be done.

We are not alright, and Jesus is not alright with us.

We are vulnerable, he made himself vulnerable. We are cold, sick, naked, alone, uncertain and unsafe.

We are face to face with the cross and we do not like it.

Lord hear our prayer! Be with those who are not alright, be with us for we are not alright. Help us. Hosanna in the highest.

Amen.

More Pandemic Prayers & Resources

Broken for you: Maundy Thursday Prayer

Heavenly God

I know the story. After they had supped with one another—Jesus took bread & blessed it & broke it. He did so saying this is my body broken for you.

And when the Coronavirus was coming—we went to the grocery stores and the stores that sold toilet paper. And we called our far way family, our everyday colleagues and our close friends and sent heartfelt blessings to one another, and then we said to each each other I will broken for you.

And then, Lord, as Jesus washed the feet of the disciples he told them to love one another—passing on the gift that Mary Magdalene gave him, he knelt in front of each and every one of them to cleanse the dirt off their feet.

We too are washing in service–washing the germs from our hands when we enter a building, washing the germs for ourselves when we exit. Let each washing be a blessings. A spillover of your love. A symbol of the cup spilling over and filling our souls. Washing people from our presence, standing at least six feet from one another out of love. Bless this washing we pray.

Feel free to use/adapt with credit to Pastor Katy Stenta

Essential Workers at the Cross

Who was essential at the cross?

Not Peter or John, Matthew or Mark.

Simon was essential: when Jesus could no longer carry the cross, Simon, a common laborer, with the strength to do the manual labor, the construction, the carrying of an essential item to where it needed to be. Simon was essential.

So were the two criminals who hung by the cross. Worthless and killed for being heretics, these two were essential for having the existential and theological conversation about who was saved and who wasn’t, and when was it too late to be saved.

The Centurion, and the common prison guards, were essential, they were the first to realize Jesus was the Son of God after he died. These workers in prison were essential.

Joseph of Arimathea, was essential. He gave up his own burial place, and risked his own death by the officials, boldly asking Pilate for the body, revealing what he believed and why. Then Joseph and Nicodemus polluted themselves–wrapping the dead body with their own hands, and using Nicodemus own mixed spices to move Jesus to the tomb. These men who put down politics to work with the dead were essential.

The women were essential. The women were sent, because they were thought to be harmless. Women prepared Jesus for the tomb with the wrappings and the spices to hide the bad smell. They entered the grave, where the guards watched–socially distant–to make certain no mischief was done. Women were the worthless but essential workers of the day.

Who was essential at the cross? Who did the work that needed to done? Who carried, cleaned, buried, wept, wrapped and worshipped?

Help us to pray and remember and rejoice in all of the essential workers we pray. Amen.

Pandemic Prayers

Presence over Perfection

Lord God,

Remember me? I was the one who realized at the tender age of 3 that I would never be perfect.

Then at 5 I proclaimed I didn’t want to be perfect anymore, I just didn’t want to make any more mistakes

At 8 or 9 I decided it was ok to make mistakes, as long as I don’t make the same ones over and over again.

In seminary, I really understood that knowing what my faults are is not the same as being able to fix them (having been well aware of my faults for years at that point)

Here I am, thrust in the middle of crises and I am valuing presence over perfection.

I am sending out videos and virtual worships and trying not to review what went wrong.

I’m trying to let go of the fact I prayed the Lord’s Prayer Incorrectly last week.

I’m trying not to worry that I left someone off the contact list completely, and didn’t call her when I first called everyone else.

I’m trying to not clench my teeth every time I remember that somehow I thought ahead and wrote Ether instead of Rubina on someone’s sent envelope.

Let’s not talk about the zoom prayer that really never came together.

And Homeschooling is more for sanity’s sake than the illusion my children will actually learn anything new.

I’m making the videos, I’m throwing together the worships, the prayers, the phonecalls.

I’m appreciating the fact that my 8 year old son wanted to help me to very sloppily put labels on the Easter Cards, I’m trying to appreciate that for the first time ever I’m sending out Easter cards.

I’m finding special things for my kiddos to do.

I’m trying to remember the ways I am praying for family, colleagues and facebook friends. I’m trying to appreciate every essential person who is still working onsite right now.

And my family did get to have a “Zoom Dinner.”

I’m finding scattered time for you, God, in the midst of pulling my hair out.

I’m imagining Mary and Martha, standing tear-stained by the tomb. I’m remembering that when they saw you (tending the garden of course), they couldn’t even recognize you.

I’m remembering the same thing happened on the way to Emmaus, where the disciples even got to talk to you and didn’t realize you were Christ.

But in both instances, the meeting wasn’t about perfection, it was about presence.

The time they spent with you, the time you spent with them.

Easter was all about showing up!

So as I cobble together Holy Week, as I know that there will be no flowers, no choir & no little children running about sharing their joy. Help me to find Presence, I pray.

Remind me today and every day, O Lord: Presence Over Perfection.

Breathe in the Presence, Breathe out the Perfection,

Amen.

More Pandemic Prayers

God of Sleep

God of Sleep,

who causes us lay in green pastures,

who knows when I lay down and when I get up.

Sleep is such a luxury.

For some of us it has become elusive

hiding behind anxieties and intrusive thoughts, we can’t snatch any slumber

Our eyes become gritty, the words “I have to sleep now” echo in our head,

but rest seems an impossibility.

For some of us, sleep sucks us in, stealing our existence.

We lie in bed for hours–depressed and feeling like there’s not reason to get up.

We tell ourselves to get up, call ourselves by our full names, and still we are stuck.

God of Sleep–we are emotionally wrung out. Completely exhausted from the toll of this crises. Completely lonely from the necessary isolation.

God of Sleep–help us to find healthy ways to lay down and to get up we pray.

Help us to find ways to cope with the heightened anxiety and/or depression of the today.

Ease my tension, soothe my headaches and heartaches and stomaches.

Give us healthy outlets, we pray.

Amen.

More Pandemic Prayers & Resources

Holy Week: Praying Our way Through!

Palm Sunday was the premature victory parade.

People in the streets, gathering because they thought the battle was over.

In the great tradition of Greek & Roman celebrations, they came and laid cloaks and palms at the victor’s feet to soften his path.

But Jesus, knew the hardest things would be next–

The Sedar Meal where Jesus spends his last night on earth with his beloved.

Then he tries to tell the disciples that he is–that they all are–betrayed, but no one believes him, and Judas denies his complicity

I wonder if this is the moment that Jesus decides he’s going to wash his disciples feet. Lavishing love upon them one last time, giving them another more personal memory to be layered upon the parade where I’m sure the disciples walked on the dusty ground near Jesus.

The long journey to Jerusalem, the cries of victory and the soothing touch of the Lord Jesus, the bellies full of good food all of the makings of the end of a good day.

Palm Sunday was the premature victory parade; people gathered in the streets thinking that there was going a battle that needed to be won. Unaware that it would instead be about healing.

I think about this as Holy Week seems creeps into today. In the midst of a pandemic I feel the need to celebrate the good, the anguish of seeing people die, the waiting, waiting, waiting of Holy Saturday.

I don’t want any premature victories, let me tell you that straight off. And I don’t want us to be going to war. And I already tire of the heightened violence, the excuse for evil racist attacks, the righteous violence of those who knock over people who are spitting on food or violating the social distancing rule–Peter’s anger in the garden seems way more present these days.

I want reconciliation, I want healing. I want us to all act like Easter is coming. Not according to any human calendar or calculation, but because Shalom is the ultimate goal. I want to work towards the healing of the world, because it’s the right thing to do, not because I need this victory or that one.

Palm Sunday was fine, but I’ll wait for Easter as long as this Holy Saturday takes.

More Prayers and Resources about the Pandemic Here

As the Rain Falls

The rain is falling today.

It’s indiscriminate. The rain doesn’t care who it falls on.

If you go out in the rain you will get wet.

It falls on the powerful and the meek.

It falls on the just and unjust

Yesterday the sun was shining

It didn’t care; the sun doesn’t care who it touches

If you went into the sun, you received it’s rays filled with vitamin D

It shone on those who were happy and those who mourned

It shone on those with COVID19 and those without alike.

Sometimes I feel caught up in my shoulds….

What should I be doing? How should I be feeling? Who should I be, now in the middle of this world crises.

God reminds me, God is my God, and the God of those who are angry, and the God of those who are terrified, or alone.

God is still my God when I feel those things. The sun still shines on me and the rain still makes me wet.

And if I’m just scraping to make ends meet: physically, monetarily, intellectually or emotionally. God is still my God then too.

You can’t be too anything for God: too good or too bad, too straight or too queer, too rich or too poor, too sad or too happy.

God promises, no matter what, God will be our God.

And I’m glad, in this time when I can’t touch many people–I can feel the drops of rain on my tongue and the warmth of the sun between my shoulders.

Remind me whoever I feel too much, or too little God that these are not your limits. Allow me to take comfort in the sun and the rain I pray. Amen.

Other Prayers and Resources for the Pandemic

Nothing will ever be the same again: Temples & Resurrection

Jesus promises that nothing will ever be the same again.

But no one understands: Neither rabbis nor the government, neither his family nor the disciples.

But that is the word of Jesus: nothings will ever be the same again.

And then he tears down the temple: time shatters as a side effect.

The sky goes dark, the minutes become slippery and the future melts into the past.

Jesus promises that nothing will ever be the same again

And Lazarus knows it when he is resurrected from the dead, so does Jairus’ daughter.

Because after Resurrection, not one stone will remain upon another.

After Resurrection, everything changes in the world and the entire world is changed.

They are not the same people, and their relationships will change.

What is an apocalypse? It is the uncovering of what is real, and what is rote.

Why is it an apocalypse? Because it’s about time we wake up and pay attention.

As things crumble away, money becomes meaningless and hugs become everything.

Power desinigrates, but conversations become lifesaving.

Jesus promises that nothing will ever be the same again.

And we pray for that, when we pray thy kingdom come, thy will be done.

(As things change, as every single thing we do changes from work, to family, too finances. As this moment becomes a part of the social conscious memory, let us acknowledge that maybe it’s good that nothing will ever be the same again.

Maybe priorities will change, maybe relationships will strengthen, maybe the things that are breaking were already on the brink and it’s time to change the way we do those things: elder care, disabled care, work/life balance, the value of essential work, the need for healing, the way my health is wrapped up in your health, the way my money is economy up in your economy, the way my shalom is wrapped up in your shalom.)

We can taste the kingdom on our tongues, not because Jesus is coming tomorrow, but because has already been here.

And we, living in the grace of 2,000 plus years post Jesus, are just now realizing that nothing truly will ever be the same again. But the temple is being rebuilt, this too Jesus promises.

It won’t be the same temple, but the temple will be rebuilt.

Thanks be to God, for the good news.

More Prayer Resources

My God is the God of Emptiness

You emptied your very Godself, and made room for creation and humanity. Like a mother making space in her womb, you found a space for us.

You then told Noah to build an empty ark, and filled an empty sky with rain, and when the world was empty you filled that emptiness with your promise; a rainbow.

You put Samuel in Hannah’s empty womb and Eli’s empty Temple.

You worked with Moses’ empty mouth–giving him a staff and Aaron to assist him upon the way, then you emptied the Red Sea for the Hebrews to cross, and finally put a song on Miriam’s lips to fill the moment.

You emptied Rahab’s house so she could hide the spies, and knocked down the walls of Jericho so that they no longer filled the space.

You told Elijah to build an empty pit, and to splash the pit with water, and then you filled that pit with light.

You sent Elisha to an empty widow, with a practically empty lamp and pantry–and somehow filled that space with hope.

Then you saw that humanity still felt empty, so you emptied yourself into a human baby, and named him Jesus.

Then you entered an humble–emptied–servant Mary, and you promised to empty the thrones, to empty out power, and to empty out pride, and to empty out the rich.

Jesus preached to the emptiness–starting in the desert, then to empty fields, houses and lakes.

Eventually he prayed in the empty garden of Gethsemane.

And then this, my God of emptiness, emptied himself on the cross.

And to prove the power of emptiness, God came to an empty tomb, to his empty disciples.

First to the women in the empty garden, who’s mouths hung empty of words in astonishment and fright,

(Then to two more on the empty road to Emmaus.

And then he showed them who he was by the breaking of bread and emptying the cup.)

I am not afraid of emptiness, for my God is the God of emptiness.

And as he empties out the churches and the organizations and the streets. As God empties out time itself, I trust that God is big enough to work with it.

My God is the God of emptiness.

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Short meditation from years ago https://katyandtheword.wordpress.com/tag/empty-churches/

More Resources and Prayers during this time of Crises