Pastor’s Prayer: Holding Stories

The story of love gone sadly wrong

and the cruelty of the wounded;

the story of misguided innocence

and wrong roads eagerly taken;

the story of bitterness carefully hoarded

and an accountbook full of tears;

the story of pain uncomforted

and loneliness at the sticking place;

the story of grief unrequited

and the collapse of unrealized dreams;

the story of sanity stormed at the gate

and the sharp stab of personal betrayal.

Congregational life in all its sadness.

I hold these stories one by one.

gingerly wiping the tears,

and tucking in the edges,

assuring everyone that even their story

is bordered by your love.

The stories are not my own

but in midnight’s darkness they ache

like a phantom limb.

Can you gather this in your arms?

Shepherd me, O God,

beyond my tears.

I want to sleep in your house forever.