A prayer for slowing down
Hurry-
the carbon dioxide
in my heart
toxic, invisible, deadly.
Lord, rid me
of striving and perfection
that feel attainable
only by the rushed pursuit
of endless activities.
A slow leak of a lie:
You must try harder, hold tighter.
You’ll never
be enough
do enough
have enough.
Enough
time
money
resources
peace
comfort
love
joy
Even in my worthy pursuits
of family, church, home, community-
I feel the quiet poison of hurry
sucking the pure air of my lungs
leaving me breathless, anxious, gripped.
I choose now
to slow
stepping out of these confines
into the fresh air of your mercy.
I open wide the windows of my heart
for the gracious wind of your Spirit
to move now and cleanse me.
Lord, fill me.
Better than the patching of a leak
you give new wineskins brimming
for a feast laid out on
a spacious table-
the altar of your love.
You whisper-
come, eat, rejoice
leave your worries at my feet
be nourished by my love
rest in the security of my sacrifice
the work is finished
You are enough
You are beloved
You are mine
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As soon as I decided I was going to share this poem prayer, I began to mull over a photo to go along with it. I happened to be baking sourdough bread that day as well and had the happy epiphany that a photo with the communion elements on our table would bring to life the “Lord fill me” stanza. I imagined clearing off all the mess to take a simple, beautiful photo until I realized my dilemma. My son had constructed an elaborate structure of building blocks on our table and I had promised him he could leave it there until dinner- the moment we would devour the bread and any chance for a photo of it would be gone.
With a 10 month old who is into everything, the older kid’s activities have migrated to the kitchen table. We do not have a playroom or second living space or even second table downstairs. Most of the time, we are pushing aside markers, scissors, play dough, and puzzles to make room for plates, forks, and cups. I confess that many times this can subtly annoy me wishing I either had a better organizational system, kids who were more diligent at cleaning, or a second space to spread out the toys. But in his mercy, God brought a new image to mind.
Bread and juice laid on my table exactly how it was. His mercy and grace lavished at my crumb-strewn, disheveled table. (Truly, I only moved these items a tiny bit to get them all into the picture, but they were all on my table at the same time.) The focus on his sustenance and everything at the periphery. This is the feast God has laid before me complete with sticky fingers, silicone bibs, and brightly colored cups brimming with milk. And it is good. Very good. A land flowing with milk and honey. Quite literally.
What is on your table? Maybe it’s not bibs and blocks, but sports equipment and water bottles. Or a laptop filled with emails. Or to-do lists. Or kid’s homework. Or stacks of mail. Or less exciting things like bills or medicine. In the midst of the good- and even in the things we desperately wish were different- he is gently pursuing us, showing us his infinite mercy in the chaos and joy of this life.
Maybe photos of my messy table will help you see the good laid our on yours. Our tables, our lives, our jobs, our families, our hopes are all different. But the same God is laying out a feast if only we have eyes to see it. Slow down. Sit awhile. Taste and see that the Lord is good at your table, in your home, in your life- as it is right now.
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P.S. If you enjoy written prayers and poems, I can’t recommend enough Every Moment Holy. There are three volumes out. We just got the third volume which released in November. I have been savoring those prayers and hence feeling inspired to write my own!
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