In the sweet light blossom of first love,
God of new beginnings, be near us.
Let us discover wonder and beauty
in the smile of another.
Let us feel ourselves embraced
in arms and open minds.
Let us be giddy with happiness
at the world’s freshness.
In the wide swoop of love’s new dance
you are the ground beneath our feet,
the air we breathe together
To do my job as pastor here, here is what I need from You:
wisdom to interpret scripture,
courage to speak the truth,
eloquence to touch frozen hearts,
patience when people won’t listen,
kindness for those who irk me,
strength to shoulder hard stories,
discretion to know when to speak,
self-control to remain silent,
hope in the face of hopelessness.
Above all these give me love for all your people
and a passionate longing for your presence.
Thank you God for your good and faithful servants
our forefathers and foremothers in faith
who nurtured us and encouraged us
to journey in Jesus’ footsteps.
We follow their examples and find
that your steadfast love sustains us
in dark valleys of disbelief
on mountains of joyful clarity
along each daily dusty road we walk.
You listen patiently to our complaints:
“Our feet hurt!”
“We’re tired!”
This is what we desire:
Your love breaking down barricades of hatred.
Your peace melting permafrosted hearts.
Your joy cascading over bleak resignation.
Your patience bending the world slowly.
Your gentleness permeating even the most impermeable.
Your goodness towering above all evils.
Your kindness embracing our fear.
Your faith moving mountains.
Your spirit, God, is all we desire.
Be with us in this hour of worship. Amen.
In our remote control world
advertisements compete to control
body, mind, thoughts.
Pop-ups telling us how
to look, walk, eat, buy.
Telling us who to be, what to see
who to fear, what to wear
how to think, where to shop.
Stop. Why?
Your spirit, a divine virus checker
They were grateful lodgers,
considering the humble accommodations.
We did the best we could,
the place full up,
our stable the last corner we had.
Mary, who had a baby coming,
wanting only peace and privacy,
was happy with anything.
It was a birth like any other,
the mother spent, the baby crying,
the father bewildered.
I gave her swaddling clothes,
the ones my Daniel used.
Bless the work of our hands, O God.
Bless the hands that work the land;
hands that move earth, plant seeds and harvest,
hands with callouses and dirty fingernails, strong hands.
Bless the hands that use machines;
hands that drive cars, trucks and forklifts,
hands on computer keyboards, capable hands.
Bless the hands that make things;
hands that manufacture and create,
We are waiting for your presence, God–
patient, like a lover sitting by the telephone
waiting for the voice of their beloved;
attentive as a farmer watching clouds for rain
waiting for the parched soil’s relief;
intent as a child standing by the road
waiting for the parade to appear;
empty as a satellite dish scanning the heavens
waiting for a message from the stars;
poised as the still arms of a windmill
waiting for the wind’s inspiration;
open as the wide sand beach
waiting for the tide’s embrace.
Come, Lord Jesus.
I am a Mennonite pastor currently teaching theology at Conrad Grebel University College in Waterloo, Ontario. I’ve served congregations in Ontario and most recently, Alberta.
I love to write and to lead worship! If you are finding my writing helpful, I would love to hear from you! Feel free to use or adapt the material here, it is all written by me. If printing material, please credit “Copyright Carol Penner www.leadinginworship.com” (and say whether you modified it). If publishing, please contact me for permission. Contact me at carol@leadinginworship.com
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