God who sees the heart of things,
who sees my heart,
you know the love still lodged
for friends long absent.
Once, long past,
we found a home
in each other’s presence.
A genuine meeting then
a parting of ways,
the currents of life and time…
On this wind-swept day
my prayer is a kite
rising from outstretched arms
stringing taut and fast
up with sailing clouds
up with soaring hawks
my kite swoops
in the high blue
writing thank-you
thank-you.
When I am beside myself with grief–
Jesus, you are there beside me.
When my mind reels and I feel like I’m falling—
Jesus, you are the fixed point that does not move.
When grief’s bands tighten around my chest—
Jesus, you are the oxygen I breathe.
When the ache in my heart is the only thing I feel—
Jesus, save me.
You who wept with sorrow and with fear,
thank you for staying with me in this hour,
this hour of grief.
At the last kiss,
at the final true laugh,
at the bottom of the body’s decline,
at the mind’s last conscious thought,
at the moment when love vanishes,
at the end of all remembering,
be the God at the last.
Be the God of wrinkled bodies and stooped shoulders,
the God of vacant eyes and open mouths,
the God of incontinence and shaking.
Be the God who holds the hand,
the God who soothes the brow,
the God who whispers words of comfort
and the God who hums a lullaby
until the last sleep falls.
God, I have entered the irritation zone.
In the irritation zone,
conversations always rub me the wrong way,
nothing is where I left it,
everyone is being inconsiderate to me
and it is all taking too much time.
In the irritation zone,
my skin feels like its crawling,
my stomach is a tight ball,…
My heart is heavy.
Heavy like a bulky suitcase carried too long,
Heavy like the pressure at the bottom of the pool’s deep end,
Heavy like feet at the end of a long day’s walk,
Heavy like carrying bad news to a friend,
Lifter of the heavyhearted, hear my prayer.
Help me to remember the strength that first lifted
and bore the weight easily.
Help me to remember the sweet surrender of diving
and the adventure of going deep.
Help me to remember the lightness of step…
Thank God for old friends
who take the long view—
who are not startled by temper flares
or momentary lapses of judgement.
The ballast of high regard
floats all ships:
you think well of me
and I strive not to disappoint.
Thank God for old friends
who see the lighter side,
On the other side of the mountaintop experience
on the day I lose my footing
on the quick way down
when nothing I grasp at holds
when all the world’s a blur
when all I can feel is this steep descent
here is where I need you most
here is when I call your name
here is where doubt and faith collide
can your hand stop
this quick slide
God, you know I hold my family together:
balancing the needs of everyone,
the schedules of everyone,
the health of everyone,
juggling each ball with dexterity
and not dropping one, not one.
I give thanks for strength and stamina.
But there’s a haunting sense
that I’ve reached my limits
and that even this camel’s back
will not take one straw more.
One morning will I stand on the road
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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