Source of Life,
Creative Force,
Bearer of Burdens
Who longs to gather us under your strong, feathery wings:
We are tired of being the parent, the pastor,
The figure-outer, the fixer.
We grow weary of the weight we carry.
We are exhausted from being the one in charge.
Except, of course, we’re not in charge,
Because if we were, things would not be such a hot mess.
(At least that’s what we tell ourselves . . . and sometimes others.)
But we are exhausted, nonetheless.

So, mothering God,
Grant us the grace to let you be our Parent and Pastor.
Help us rely on your Wisdom to figure things out, to heal what is broken.
Bear our burdens,
Tend to our hearts,
Gather us under your wings
and hold us to your warmly beating breast.
Let our souls be quieted,
As weaned children resting in the arms of their Mother.

Amen.

Originally published at RevGalBlogPals. That beloved group is closing and I am moving my writings for them onto my blog. So there will be a lot of posts over the next few days.