First, political news that is unsettling and divisive, then another shooting in Southern California, and now a tremendous fire in Northern California near where my family lives.
Putting my hands palm to palm,
I opened them to form a cup.
I pray, imagining my prayer taking form into my cupped hands.
I imagine, God as love, with loving hands, underneath my own,
When every word of mine, no longer has a name, when only silence stands between my heart and hands, when my prayer(s) sits heavy in my hands–
I opened them, letting them pour out to the hands underneath.
Letting go.
Letting be.
Trusting that the loving hands underneath my own hold my prayer.
Faith, bring me courage, to face whatever comes my way.
Lately, after a shooting in the USA, there is a backlash against the wording "thoughts and prayers" understandable given that it is said so often that they are losing their meaning, like a quick band-aid on a boo-boo, or worse just words spoken without heartfelt depth or direction, almost like a badge shown "thoughts and prayers" instead of a true response. Those two words are becoming washed out and the loving energy they can bring thrown under the bla-bla-bla bus.
and yet this is what I can offer wherever I am– my spiritual energy to go forth believing that it does make a difference beyond my fully understanding how.
Thoughts and Prayers as love and love knows no bounds:
Grace, healing, and courage lead us.
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