Walk On

This week I joined 24 Hour Fitness, located just down the road from our house.  It's been several months since this post, and I'm glad I finally got up the nerve to do something about it.  Plus my 30th birthday is rapidly approaching, adding to my motivation.  

Each day this week I broke out of my normal pattern of study/reading while Theo's at preschool and have instead been working out, slowly burning calories that largely accumulated while sitting in bed holding Vincent.  Considering my last intentional exercise was well over six years ago, I'm not as sore as I anticipated.

But the thing is.... I don't really feel any better inside.  I'm still tired, exhausted, angry, sad.  Perhaps there is no golden ticket—no one specific thing that will make my life more bearable.  I guess I should know after eight months of grief work that the only way to feel (minutely) better is to keep walking, moving forward (wherever and whatever that is).

       Lord, strengthen me.
       Let my hands be adept to serve,
       feet quick to follow,
       eyes sharp to see.
       My heart, steadfast, be Yours.

Rainbows and Prayers

"Lord, I want to know your ways more and more... This is my cry; give me an endless love and thirst for you... That is my cry to you forever, Amen.       Yours only, Rebecca Holmes"                  

-Diary excerpt dated March 18, 1993  (I was 11 years old)

Last week during his nightly prayers Theo asked God to send him a rainbow, preferably soon.

I thought to myself, "Good thing we live in Hawaii!" and promptly informed him that he would be seeing a rainbow sometime during the weekend.  I was sure of it.

On Saturday while driving to Costco, we saw it, slightly foggy and indistinct, but as we rode along the colors became increasingly bright, almost sharp, and ten minutes later it was a full-fledged rainbow stretching across the sky complete with a double.  Yup, there were two of them. 

Theo was ecstatic.  I was happy his prayer was answered.  Theo thanked God and Vincent for sending him the rainbow(s) and then informed us that when he goes to heaven he's going to make it rain for a long while.  Great.  Double great.  

These days Theo seems to be talking a lot about when he gets sick and dies and goes to heaven like his brother.  I've had "rational" conversations with him where I informed him of the low probability of death for a child his age.  We talked about statistics, how most kids in our country don't get cancer.  At other times I've tried different approaches - we've discussed how it is to miss someone you love, how it hurts to wait to see them, but today when he brought up the topic of his death yet AGAIN, I felt like having a fit.  I don't like having conversations with our 4 year old son about his OWN death.  I don't EVER want to think about it, EVER!  I hope I'm long gone before he kicks the can.  So today, when Theo brought up the topic of dying, I felt like having a very angry talk where I would inform him - yes, instruct him - that he was NOT going to die anytime soon, much less get SICK and die, that I was simply NOT going to allow it.  Because I can control things like that, dag nabit! 

Only I can't.  Obviously.  And that stinks.   

Perhaps at the end of my story I'll be able to look back and see how all along my life was an exercise in surrender - the surrender of control, ambition, treasure.  And how with each surrendering, each large and small death, I was brought nearer to the heart of God, the one who lost (and then gained!) it all.

That would be an answer to one of my earliest prayers.  

Saturday Prayer

God,
why, why
exhaustion chases me
my heart heavy full sinks down, lower still,
this is more than I can bear

Why, why have you forsaken me?

Friday Prayer

God,
I'm exhausted—
body, mind, spirit, soul.
In weakness make me strong
that I may stand with you on the high places.
Amen.

Photo by Theo (4 yrs)

Thursday Prayer

Lord, 

Grant me the grace of thinking before speaking,

of offering mercy, not accusation

of forgiving and forgetting.

Let not my past wounds blind me to your presence.

Amen.

Wednesday Prayer

God, I lie so easily.
Must come from years of practice.
Sometimes the truth is more complicated, depressing,
often unbelievable.
As you can see, I'm full of excuses.
Fill my ears with the complicated truth that I may speak it out
even when it is uncomfortable, unglamorous, painful.

Photography by Theo Stringer (age 4)

Tuesday Prayer

God,
Calm these tumultuous waves.
Let the lake of my heart silently mirror
glory from your life above
as clouds reflected on the water.

Monday Prayer

God,
You know how I hate delays—patience is not my strong suit.
Throughout this day take the moments of waiting
whether for e-mails, approaching deadlines,
family members, parking spaces or grocery lines
and create in me an inner place, broad and open
where you can speak and be heard,
a space where the stillness itself resounds with your vibrant song.

photo by Theo (age 4)

A Week of Prayers

Starting today for one week I'll be posting a prayer every morning.  Feel free to check in during the week and pray along with me.  See you all!

(photo by Theo Stringer, age 4)

Prayer of Consummation

Ignite me with Thy scintillating light.

Consume my soul—draw me—

even as a moth to the flame.

Disintegrate me

and from these ashes birth renewal, healing, perfection.

Prayer (when despairing)

I'm drowning, God.
Are you asleep, tossed about by these waves?
Or perhaps taking a midnight walk across the water?
Do you not see that I am weak, weary, sinking?
I keep waiting for things to get easier, but they don't—to find my footing—
but instead I am mired, enmeshed, submerged.

Prayer when Mourning

As I sing this dirge

may its notes be transfigured, transmuted, transposed,

the dissonance of fear and anger

resolving into harmonic chords of grace and beauty.

In your mercy let the melody of my life
echo the voice of your unending song.

Prayer for Help

God,
When words run dry
fill my mouth with your speech
When patience evaporates
flood my will with your strength
And when my faith wavers
pour in your hope
In the name of Him who turned water to wine and calmed the raging sea,
Amen.

Crying into my beer: a prayer when feeling miserable

God, right now I think that my wounds hurt
more than everyone else's.

I hurt more than you
I need more help than has been given 
I deserve a better life
I've worked hard but reaped little 
I've lost more than I've found

In these dark self-pitying moments
help me to see through my trauma
to the promised healing,
past the darkness to the coming light,
and beyond this death to the coming Resurrection.

Amen.

A Mother's Day Prayer

This Mother's Day help me remember the good moments
where we laughed, hugged, smiled,
moments where pain, fear, and anger were far away.
Help me remember my best parenting as well,
when I was patient, fair, encouraging, hopeful.
Forgive my failings.
Let guilt be far from my door.
Let me celebrate instead all the things done right.
The joyous time we shared,
the wrinkly smiles given
the love received.
Help me feel close to my kids - all of them -

even the ones not here.

Weeds and Wheat (A prayer from Matthew 24)

This growing soul seeded liberally
with weeds and wheat intermingled, entwined,
sprouting up towards the sun.
God,
take both my anger and my love,
my resentment and my thankfulness,
my best self and my worst.
Shine your lightful presence,
rain your Spirit down.
In Your time harvest the good,
pull out the bad,
feed the hungry with what I've grown
and fill the empty ground with your new seed.

On this Dreadful Anniversary

(a prayer written for children)

When his body couldn't work anymore
thank you for taking care of him,
for keeping him entertained with playful angels,
for giving him happy dreams.
When the morphine took over, thank you that his spirit was safe-
he was never lost or alone or confused.
Thank you for the drugs that helped his body cope,
for the peace that covered him like a blankie.
Thank you for the joy he got when he opened his eyes
for the first time in heaven.
On this dreadful anniversary, thank you he had a place to go
when his body couldn't work anymore.

Palm Sunday Prayer

Jesus, I can see your love and bravery,

riding into Jerusalem with palm branches covering the ground,

knowing that you would soon be betrayed and killed.

In the same way, 

help me to walk with you confidently and without fear.  

When palm branches line my path with the green promise of new life,

remind me that pain is never far away.  

And when the darkness comes, remind me that you are nearer still.  

Amen.  

When I am Angry...

I am angry, God.
In these moments help my words and actions
not wound myself or others.
Grant me the grace of listening before speaking,
of pausing before yelling.
Give me the patience to wait these feelings out.

Then, let me praise you.

The Griever's Prayer

As feelings of pain and anguish build
may I welcome them with an open heart,
knowing that they are but invitations to grieve with You,
our Suffering Servant.

May my wounds not embitter or isolate me.
Instead, may they enlarge the walls of my heart
to embrace those in the world around,
the angry, bitter, forgotten, isolated, and wounded.

May my pain lead me to participate in God's pain,
And through that, to share in His glory.

Amen.