a-Lenten-prayer-a-day, day 35, Monday in Holy Week, April 10, 2017

my-hands-2-27-17Note: As a personal, spiritual discipline, I write a prayer for each of the forty days of Lent; each petition focusing on a theme, truly, relating to a care or concern weighing on my mind and heart, at times, vexing my soul and spirit…

On the restlessness of early morn: O Lord, I awoke in this morning’s wee hours upon my bed of ease with its firm mattress and clean, crisp sheets soothing the mild infirmities of mine aging flesh (did You, O Lord, stir me from my serene and sheltered rest?).

Rising, I felt led (by You, O Lord?) to the window, and I, further bidden (again, by You, O Lord?), looked up into Your sky, alit by Your distant vapor-veiled moon and, farther still, Your winking stars.

And I wondered (did You, O Lord, disturb my mind with this thought, and this morn not for the first time nor, I believe, for the last?) about the eyes of others, my sisters and my brothers of the human family in which You birthed me to share, who also gazed into Your infinite space; though, not with the liberty I enjoy, but without choice, for they had no other place to be, but out-of-doors, in open-air…

Those who are homeless, fending for themselves on dim-lit streets and darkened alleys, lacking sufficient means, some, perhaps, too, no longer sound of mind so to inhabit abodes on avenues with names and numbered addresses called their own…

Those who are refugees, by ruthless powers and principalities heedless of human kindness, forced, bomb-strafed, from their homes to set off across unforgiving terrain toward unfamiliar lands praying for uncertain asylum…

Those who are abused, in fear fleeing olden lovers, who, through terrifying transfigurations, transmogrifications have become habitual transgressors of all sense and safety and any sanctity of self…

Those, in the fresh innocence of their youth, held captive, cruelly coerced to barter their bodies to favor lustful hearts and hands…

Those addicted with stung, needle-marked flesh, lolling brows and listless bodies…

O Lord, I wish, I pray none of this was true; that these situations were but ephemeral images, fragments of dreams, nightmares from which all might awaken, though, yes, shivering and soul-shaken, yet physically sheltered from all harm.

Alas, all, and more, is true, and, as true, my heart is not, cannot be tranquil.[1]

O Lord, I beseech You, tell me what to do? What do I do? What can I do? Amen.


[1] Here, I have in mind Ephesians 5.15-16: Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time, because the days are evil. Though the writer’s primary point, as I interpret it, is an admonition to those who follow Christ to reject the ways of their former lives, the crux of the word “the days are evil” strikes a resonant chord in my heart; for so much (and more) of what I behold, as I capture in this prayer, is, for me, the personification of evil; all that denies and defies God.

4 thoughts on “a-Lenten-prayer-a-day, day 35, Monday in Holy Week, April 10, 2017

  1. What an amazing prayer Paul!! When I awoke this morning the full moon was shining brightly! I thanked God for allowing me to see it.

    Thank you for praying for all who are suffering in this world. So many have so little and some of us have so much! I wish there could be a more even distribution…. but that’s probably a lot to ask.

    I’m soooooooo happy to be on this prayer journey with you! Thank you again and again!! I recognize your brilliance and your worth every day and I hope you know that.

    Much love!


    Liked by 1 person

    • “…(my) brilliance…” Loretta, you are too kind!

      Truth be told, the more I think about this 40-day-prayer-writing-trek and that we’ve walked alongside each other through it, the more I see (literally and metaphorically) how we have enhanced each other’s experience. I thank you for our mutuality.



  2. My dear brother Paul, thank you for expressing the anguish of remembering what happens in this world every moment. It echoes the weeping of my own heart for those whose lives are too much consumed by fear, loneliness, and pain and for my own forgetfulness and obliviousness in the face of their suffering.

    With love and gratitude,


    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, Karen. Truly, I believe it was a God-consciousness or a consciousness of God (whatever that language means or seeks to articulate) that placed on/in my mind the image of other eyes peering up into the early morning heavens, and then imagining who might be out and about at that wee/small hour and why. Though a troubling thought, leaving me troubled, I am grateful for having a heart to feel the pains of other sisters and brothers.

      Always, my love,


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s