Comfort and Prayer

matterofprayer blog post for Saturday, December 28, 2013

Comfort and Prayer

I went to a funeral today. An elderly person close to me died recently. Today was a celebration of long, fruitful life as well as a grieving for someone who has passed beyond our immediate connection. Into God’s gracious hands.

As a chaplain and caregiver, I frequently am put in the position of communication with elderly individuals. I enjoy coming alongside of them, traveling with them for a little while. My heart goes out to these dear people. Each one has a story. Whether big events or little circumstances, whether traveling to far places for years or staying in one place for an entire lifetime—I always can listen to and learn from their personal stories.

This particular, much-loved senior had a full life. I heard many personal anecdotes today. Many remembrances, and a great deal of love and caring was shared from a long and blessed life.

I realize that some are less blessed in their lives, but each one has a continuing story. As I listen to each story, I can rejoice with the teller, or share their concern or pain. I can offer to pray, and bring their story before God—with or without words. That’s my privilege, to journey with individuals, couples, or families. Whether at a care center, a private home, or on the street, it doesn’t matter. God is still here. And I can come alongside people with the ministry of presence.

Let’s pray. Dear God, thank You for the opportunity to come together, in community. Thank You for the blessed, yet difficult, experience of grieving and mourning. I know You are with each of us, every day—whether we realize it or not. Forgive me, God, for forgetting You so often. Lead me—lead us—to a blessed understanding of Your presence by our sides, each day. Thanks for Your care, Your comfort, and Your encouragement. God, in Your mercy, hear our prayer.

Waiting, Praying and the Labyrinth

matterofprayer blog post for Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Today, I wanted to go to the convent several miles away where they have an outdoor Labyrinth, a replica of the one laid into the floor of the cathedral at Chartres. I wanted to walk the sacred path again.

Today was a temperate day, for December, high 40’s and misty. I never made it, because of work and other urgent matters, but I wanted to.

God, does that count?

I’ve known about this Labyrinth for almost ten years. Now, I walk the Labyrinth several times each year, in different kinds of weather. Sometimes warm, balmy, cool, bracing, or even downright cold. Since it’s out of doors (in the rear, nearby the extensive convent gardens), I can see the changes of the seasons and the beauty of God’s creation. When I walk, I sometimes pray. At times, I halt at each twist and turn of the path. Sometimes I walk steadily. A very few times, I have felt like the walk is plodding—my walk has not been easy. And I pray. Even when my walk is not easy, especially when my heart is troubled.

In this time of Advent, does my want to count? I know I am waiting. I know God is with me, but even still—I am waiting for something just over the horizon. Watching. Wanting. Waiting. I suspect that this is how God desires me to be, the reason God wishes for me to approach. Nearer, deeper. As C.S. Lewis said, “Further up and further in!”

Let’s pray. God, thank You for Your invitation to approach You in prayer. I feel the need to come close to You. Forgive me when I ignore Your repeated promptings to come close. I appreciate the words of Prof. Lewis that urge me to go “further up and further in.” In this Advent time, I watch, I wait. I want more of You. Thank You for Your presence with me, each day. Every day. Amen.