I wrote these two blessings during my spiritual writing mini workshop at the women’s retreat last month. They are raw and unedited. I offer them to you with the hope that they will nourish you during your Lenten journey.
May your purpose continue to be revealed, and may your heart feel strengthened as Easter nears.
God, come bless me in this circle of prayerful women.
Bless my pen.
Bless this day of unmatched socks and warm sun through the window
on my neck.
In this ink—your guidance.
On this page—your forgiving nature.
God, you’ve never been an editor.
You put it all on the forest floor—
dead leaves, broken branches,
squirrels who fight.
Your way is messy.
I am too attached to periods and
line breaks and
let’s make the language clean
Your language, Lord, is happiness.
You always seem to be running toward me.
When did I get caught up in reading signs
about what was allowed?
You are always giving me permission
to run across the page
May the Lord bless these women gathered
in the holy act of opening to words
opening to the Word
before the first person spoke and
a great star broke
Lord, bless us in our twingey places and rattly worries.
Bless us in our worm-filled yards and birdfeeders.
All the places we seek life.
All the ways we seek each other.
I wanted to climb every fence for you
and not little fences but
the metal razor wire.
I know we put you far away.
I know we make you sit alone,
laying without clothing,
with hunger, Lord.
Yet you bless us in noise and trash cans.
All the while you bless the trash
because it doesn’t seem like trash to you.
You don’t call it trash.
That’s our word.
You, who broke open the first star and
saw no trash—
only the holy
Do you ever feel unworthy of God’s love and forgiveness? What helps you to stay grounded in your faith when life gets hectic?