Sunday, May 03, 2020
A Prayer from the Sheep Pen
Faithful God, we are gated in. We are safe. We are pent up, each within our own fences. We are avoiding the pastures we prefer, as we have been warned to do.
But we'd be lying if we said we're enjoying this. We want to wander. We want to pick the lock of the gate, to be free, to go where we wish without worry, without care, without consequence.
We are anxious, tired, uncertain, scattered in mind and spirit.
One of the few things keeping us from bursting forth with abandon is that small gentle voice just beyond our hearing that calls us to continued trust. We can hear it more clearly when we are quiet, between panicked breaths and near-paralyzing sadness. It calls us back to ourselves, and to your presence, and to peace.
As we continue to sit tight, may that voice break through our own desperate braying. May we find within it the relief that we so crave. Amen.