O God of justice, like petulant children, we – your people – cry out, “No fair!” when confronted with life’s little setbacks. “No fair!” we want to scream as we sit in traffic, yet again. “No fair!” we cry inwardly when our diligence goes unappreciated and the glad-handing co-worker wins the promotion. “No fair!” we mumble during the unceasing stream of weekend errands.
You know, O God, how dutiful we are in this city of bureaucracies and rules and ambition. We endure the peevish supervisor with a polite smile. (Worst of all, O God, we have seen that polite smile on the faces of our own subordinates.) We pay our mortgages. We max out our 401(k)s. We get our cars serviced at the intervals recommended by the manufacturer.
And yet, O God, we sense that something is missing. We do not feel as if we are living in Your Realm. We see the rain as a spoiler of weekend plans rather than as a glorious refreshment for the parched earth. We see our partners and parents and children and friends as obligations and treat them as such, rather than as loving companions. We forget to consider the lilies and how they grow – that they toil not, and neither do they spin.
O Comforter and Redeemer, touch our hearts, in this place and at this moment, with your love. Give us fresh eyes to see Your manifold blessings. Remind us, again and again and again, that we live and move and have our being in You. And, that in You, there is great joy! Amen.
9 October 2005
by DeaconDave Skidmore