A Little Prayer for a Big Pandemic (or vice versa)

Picture taken this past January at the Campion Renewal Center, in Weston , Massachusetts -a place I long to return when this Pandemic ends.

Today, a prayer from my journal that became a poem to share. May the words be received, and may they do the work they need to in the heart of the one who needs the work to be done in them, including me. Amen.

Lord, I acknowledge You alone are God-There is no other.
I ask your forgiveness for so often thinking you are less,
even while I profess, I am yours.
Have mercy, Father.

Lord, I do confess, I have failed you
with my words, my actions, my choices.
All too often I am focused on myself,
my comfort, convenience,
my inconveniences.

Instead of praying, I’ve complained.
Instead of encouraging others, I’ve torn down
and accused my sisters and brothers.
Presuming to be wise, when I have been foolish, as I’ve spoken
of my fellow human beings with venomous words.

Unchecked by your grace, I have spread my opinions,
instead of your life-changing truth. I have traded
temporal conversations and comments for eternal consequences,
and I am ashamed, as I should be for revealing what I believe…
that my thoughts are more share-worthy than your faithfulness.
Forgive me, Lord.

Forgive me, that I have heard the news of people suffering and dying,
and I have felt nothing…because my heart has become a stone within me
and it no longer hears your voice over my own madness,
my own self-centered focus.

Instead of being salt and light, touching with hope
those You have called me to, I have stirred the pot of contention
at every turn and confused your mission
with my supercilious perspective.

This prayer is not mine alone; I pray for the stony heart of humanity
revealed throughout this pandemic.

We have forgotten what matters; we have misplaced our compass.
We no longer long for home. Blind to the utter tragedy before our eyes.
It is not the other person, no…yet we press on in our blindness, saying we see clearly.
We are a homeless generation, naked, lost in our amnesia.

We are the new desert wanderers, desiring what we see only before us-
forgetting what is promised, destined to suffer- in the hope our hearts be jolted
and recall what is forgotten…a distant horizon.

Wake us up, Lord. Wake us up from the slumber of our own wisdom.
We are sheep behaving like cunning, troublesome foxes.
Let us be instead as the sheep you intended, as children trusting,
not claiming the wisdom of this world as we know it but of the one to come.
Let us remember our battle is in the unseen realms.

And we are never alone. For He who has promised is faithful,
and He has said it. And He is coming again. Choose this day,
whom your heart will bow to, but do not brag-
for the days are deceitful, and you are not above the Rider.

Let me remember…let me be part of the invisible army of riders –
let me lift my heart, mind, spirit, and soul in prayer and set aside
my high opinion of myself, all I say and do.
Teach me the way, Lord, of not my will, but thine.
Let me be one with you.

Published by enthusiasticallydawn

Dawn Paoletta is the author of Journaling for Discovery and Delight. Her writing is included in several anthologies and her poems have been included in the Wickford Poetry and Art Exhibit and Books. Dawn is currently working on her next book. Inquiries at dawn.paoletta@gmail.com

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