I once prayed in a circle of quiet—
closed door, closed eyes,
ink-scratch the only sound.
Now all I have to offer is prayer
in the margins—
nestled between dirty dishes,
laundered socks,
toddler stampedes.
No time for eloquence,
No energy either.
I’m blunter now, I suppose,
going for the divine jugular.
Please.
Thank you.
Help me.
Protect them.
What now?
Thank you anyway.
Have mercy.
Bless them.
Thank you still.
So I breathe blessings over sleep-tousled hair,
put hands on heads as we race to school,
exhale benedictions when I hear sirens
(for surely that’s someone’s son, if not my own).
I let prayers come
in what form they may,
amid the tornadic wildness
of these days.
I let the prayers come—
as breaths, as teardrops, as kisses.
As the beats of my own heart.
beautiful!
Thank you, Jen!!
Wow, Stephanie! This poem so beautifully captures the moment! The photo is the perfect graphic to accompany the poem. Thank you!
Thanks for your encouragement, Debbie, and for your prayers all along the way!
Dearest Stephanie,
That is one of the most beautiful, heartfelt, and honest prayer/poems I’ve ever read.
Thank you.
Bless you.
Grateful for you.
Love,
Kathy
Thank you so much, Kathy! Being at the Festival with you inspired me to write (even if just a bit!).
Stephanie, your timing is perfect in writing and posting this beautiful prayer. I’ve just arrived at a prayer retreat in Maryland where I will be leading a small group for the next 48 hours, and I’d like to share your words with them. Whatever season of life they are in, I know they will relate. Thank you for helping me encourage them!
You will be such an encouragement to them, Maggie! May mountains that need to moved, MOVE!