Free spirit


 

On freedom

We have a visceral awareness of how free we feel as we move through the world, even though freedom, like energy is not something we can see, taste or touch. How do our senses know when we’re free? It seems to run along a continuum, one that we define in relative terms. The playground is freer than the classroom, the picnic freer than the formal banquet. But at each end of the spectrum there are absolutes. On one end lie places we all agree are restrictive, like the tunnel of an MRI machine or a solitary-confinement cell. On the other are places that feel entirely unconstrained – fields and lakes, parks and beaches. As I thought about it, I realized that the most liberating places are, with few exceptions, found in nature.

 

A prayer

As the beautiful, dew-covered rose
      rises from amongst its thorns,
so may my heart be so full of love for you, my God,
      that I may rise above the storms and evils that assail me,
and stand fast in trust and freedom of spirit.
 
after Hadewijch of Brabant (first half of thirteenth century)
from The Book of a Thousand Prayers by Angela Ashwin, #238
 


From the blog
Nature bringing joy
Ancient Irish Prayer
Restless heart
 

Lord of the captive and the free


 

 

An aboriginal activist sister said, “If you have come to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us walk together.

A prayer

Lord of the captive and Lord of the free, fill our voices with songs that proclaim hope, joy and justice for all creation. Guide us this day to walk alongside the oppressed as fellow sojourners. Amen.

 
 
Both the quote and the prayer are from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals by Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and Enuma Okoro, p. 245.


From the blog
Theme: Ever sustaining  [prayer sheet]
Make us a chalice
No more tears
 

Daily practice rewards


I encounter this willow tree regularly to and from Rotterdam Central Station.

 
Reflecting on the story of the Samaritan woman who meets Jesus while making her daily visit to the well (John 4:1-30, 39-42), Jan Richardson writes,

The encounter between Jesus and the unnamed woman offers something of an icon of the Lenten season and the invitation it extends to us. If we give ourselves to a daily practice, if we keep taking our vessel to the source even when we feel uninspired or the well seems empty or the journey is boring, if we walk with an openness to what might be waiting for us in the repetition and rhythm of our routines, we may suddenly find ourselves swimming in the grace and love of God that goes deeper than we ever imagined. …

Are your habits and practices drawing you closer to the sustenance you need or pulling you farther away from it? What are you thirsty for?

 
from www.paintedprayerbook.com


Opening prayer

O God, we gather at your waters,
as a hot and bothered crowd gathers on the beach
on a sweltering, summer day.
O God, we drink at your fountain,
as a parched dog laps at the fresh,
running water of a bush creek.
O God, we await your refreshment,
as a tired worker watches for the change of shift.
Quench our thirst, satisfy our longings.
May we be refreshed and restored in you;
and teach us where to find the bucket and how to carry it
so that we might draw that water for those who most need it.

~ written by Anita Monro and posted on re:Worship


From the blog
The wells of salvation
Settle yourself into the quiet
In the school of prayer with Angela Ashwin
 

He took bread

The four-fold pattern of self-giving love

At the very end of his life Jesus did two things that more any other, lodged in the minds of his friends. The first, the washing of their feet, spoke as no other action could, of the plain, unromantic, down-to-earthness of the love God both shows and asks for. The second has proved even more meaningful in the two millennia that have passed since Jesus first took bread and wine and did with them four deeply significant things.

He took bread into his hands; thanked God for it; broke it; shared it. And he said, “This is my body, my blood. This is me .. this is what I am like. He is showing them the profoundly simple pattern of this one totally good human life: a life taken and lived in complete openness to the Father and so ‘offered’. A life lived thankfully at every point by one who saw God’s hand in everything. A life spent in the costly love of others and finally broken on the Cross. A life totally shared.

Those four actions of offering, thanking, breaking and sharing, together show the pattern of what self-giving love means … and if we accept Christ’s authority in our lives we are committed to trying to make that pattern our own.

 
from This Sunrise of Wonder by Michael Mayne, 2008 edition, p. 296-7


Prayer of adoration

O come, let us adore him, Christ the Lord!

Lord Jesus, preaching good tidings to the people,
proclaiming release to captives,
setting at liberty those who are bound:
We adore you.

Lord Jesus, friend of the outcast and the poor,
feeder of the hungry,
healer of the sick:
We adore you.

Lord Jesus, denouncing the oppressor,
exposing the hypocrite,
overcoming evil with good:
We adore you.

Lord Jesus, pattern of gentleness,
teacher of holiness,
prophet of the kingdom:
We adore you.

Lord Jesus, dying to save us from our sin,
rising to give us eternal life,
ascending to prepare our heavenly home:
We adore you.

Almighty and loving God, you loved the world so much that you gave your only Son to be our Saviour. You allowed him to empty himself of his heavenly glory and become a suffering servant. Yet by your grace we have beheld his glory, such glory as befits the Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth. Amen.

— written by David Beswick, posted on re:Worship


From the blog
In the school of prayer with Michael Mayne
Making, making, making
Full of air
 

Strange but true

 
TO PONDER

‘Our pilgrimage on earth cannot be exempt from trial. We actually progress by means of trial. We do not know ourselves except through trial, or receive a crown except after victory.’

by Augustine of Hippo

 
from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals by Shane Claiborne, Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and Enuma Okoro, p. 391


Prayer

Keeper of our lives,
      you know the hardness and gentleness of human hearts.
You call your people to faithful living.
Through the storms of life
      that bring suffering and fear, joy and laughter,
      teach us to turn to you for all we need,
      so that we may come to know your presence
      even in the midst of the trials that surround us.
Amen.

 
posted on re:Worship


From the blog
Trust in the slow work of God
In the school of prayer with Terry Hinks
“A Good Night’s Sleep” inspirations
 

Simple things have special significance


 

Justin McRoberts writes,

“… one of the most powerful aspects of the Incarnation story is the thirty years of silence before the recorded part of Jesus’ life. That silence – since nobody found much of it worth marking down – says to me that Jesus lived a life that is in large part unremarkable, until He was baptized by John. Many days I find my life to be somewhat unremarkable: I work, I eat, I rest, I have time with family and friends. Nothing out of the ordinary – not even a flash of celestial glory. I am encouraged that Jesus lived such a life as well, at least for a time.

Unlike many other ancient incarnation stories wherein a god takes on human form for a while and only to serve a special purpose, in Jesus, God not only became a human being, but He …

was carried in a woman’s body,
was born to a woman,
was raised in a family with parents who taught Him to feed Himself, and had a dad.

And it seems, somewhere along the way, He …

lost His dad,
had siblings,
had friends,
lost friends,
lived in a neighbourhood,
had neighbours,
held a job,
worked for money,
paid for food,
and paid taxes.

All of which says to me that these things are not insignificant in their normality but that God finds worth in spending most of a human lifetime attending to simple things like work and neighbors and friendship and family.”

 
from “Scared Antacids”, Prayer: Forty Days of Practice
by Justin McRoberts and Scott Erickson


From the blog
Who do you work for?
Joseph and Mary: A Poem
Parental love
 

Tune in to God’s presence


 

“Prayer is the gift
of God’s presence in our life.”

 
 

 


Praying for guidance

inspired by Psalm 16

O God our protector,
we trust in you for safety,
we depend on you for all we need;
all good things come from you –
we commit our future into your hands:

Guide us by day and teach us by night,
be near us so that nothing can shake us,
make us always aware of your presence,
show us the path that leads to life,
let your Spirit fill us with joy,
and let your service be our delight for ever.
Amen.

 
~ written by Michael Perry, from www.jubilate.co.uk


From the blog
Sola gratia – Deo gratias
In all seasons – grow
First love
 

Deeper, closer

 
“When I let myself converse truly and deeply with my heart – whether through reading, writing, walking and thinking, or prayer – I find I am conversing with the creator of my heart, who invites me into conversation with him. In that conversation, I don’t always come by the answers I set out to uncover, but I draw closer to the one who holds the answers, and that is enough.”

~ written by Abigail Carroll, from A gathering of larks: Letters to St Francis from a modern-day pilgrim, p. 83

Prayer of Intercession

inspired by Luke 24

You come to us
In unexpected places,
In a crowded room,
In a journey on a dusty road,
In conversation,
In the stillness.
You come in the midst of our doubt, our fear, our sorrow
You come in the power of the resurrection
No pain and suffering is unknown to you.

You bring us peace
And we pray for the places where there is no peace
Countries torn by war
Refugees seeking homes
Prisoners facing torture

You bring peace
Peace to the tensions and conflicts within us
To the regrets, the failure,
The broken relationships
The lost friendships

You bring peace
For you are a friend to us
When we are alone
When we are lonely
Unseen you are there

You bring us peace
And we pray that we too
may become peacemakers.

 
~ written by Susan Miller, posted on re:worship


From the blog
In the school of prayer with Ignatius of Loyola
To Emmaus and back
Small talk
 

Deeper and deeper here

* Adsum *

What if the miracle of living this life is not that we all get our way but that we sink our roots and souls and bodies deeper and deeper into the place God has put us, for just the time God has put us there? This place is not even a physical place – remember, there is no moral good or evil to leaving or staying – but simply the space we inhabit today. Adsum. What if the miracle of life is that we move through belief and unbelief, doubt and faith, joy and sorrow, anger and grief, truth and faith, being as wholly ourselves as we can be in that moment. Is being here, wherever here is, wholeness?

I think it is.

    from The Understory by Lore Ferguson Wilbert, p. 205

 
* Adsum is Latin for “I am here”


From the blog
Bloom where you’re planted
Continually ever-present
Yield as sacrifice