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Mothering the World Right Now!

by Kay Klinkenborg, (Church of the Palms member), MA, Spiritual Director, Member Spiritual Directors International, Retired: RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT)

What is not in turmoil is easier to answer than list what is in turmoil in this world and on Earth. Climate change roaring; wars; politically divided countries; democracies fighting for their life; missing Indigenous women and children; mass shootings; trafficking; institutional and personal racism (in all its forms); addictions; more immigrants in the world than those that have a place to call home and we fear the list will run into eternity or the end of the planet upon which we live. What are we to do?

I reel at times with the realities of destruction, pain, terror I witness in the news. How do I stay centered; stay focused on what my core knows is true: LOVE…the world needs love.

Instantly my feminine energy kicks into gear. Mothering. Creation has been ‘mothering’ since the beginning. God speaks of ‘we’ in Genesis; not alone as Creator. Then other Hebrew Scriptures speak of Sophia, Wisdom; which has been interpreted by highly respected theologians as the feminine side of God.

The Talmud also introduces the term Shekhinah to connote God’s presence in the world. Though the term is grammatically feminine, in the Talmud it is not explicitly gendered, though in some passages it refers to moments when God shares in human experiences of loneliness, loss, and exile.¹

In the case of Jewish thought, grammar at times meets theology in as much as impersonal Hebrew nouns are gendered, so that words like hokhmah (wisdom) and shekhinah (presence) over time lent themselves by virtue of their feminine.¹

In fact, the personal name of God, Yahweh, which is revealed to Moses in Exodus 3, is a remarkable combination of both female and male grammatical endings. The first part of God’s name in Hebrew, “Yah,” is feminine, and the last part, “weh,” is masculine.²

I am pleased that I can attest to many men I know that use ‘mothering characteristics’ in their relationships and interactions. I am not suggesting that this is a woman’s task at all. In fact, I think history and biblical interpretations show us that feminine traits are revered. And our world right now needs that kind of love!.

Remember the famous song: “What the World Needs Now is Love, Love, Love.” One word most will resonant with to describe that is a verb: mothering.

Since the beginning of time…’mothering’…to nurture…to care for…to watch after’ has and does occur. It had to have occurred or evolution would not have sustained, extended or be continuing. As the human species evolves our archeological discoveries tell us that ‘mothering’ occurred. It is nature’s form of care taking, survival of the species.

One major thing I continue to learn and have reinforced: ‘getting out of God’s way’. My instinctual need to control, be in charge is being challenged. I am learning more about the spiritual discipline of surrender. Let God evolve. There is no surprise there is mass turmoil. There have always been pandemics, disasters, wars, a disappearance of life as we understand it. None of this is news. Yes, we live in a more informed world, and more technology but the real truth is human’s are still evolving and every generation has to learn for themselves what is means to be human, to love and have relationships with all peoples and creation. Our ownership that this can happen to us is what is new. This is nature. This is the evolving of life in this known Universe.

I have found myself ‘should-ing’; I should do this; I should say that; I should not be having this fear and anxiety. A sampling of my should list. What about ‘mothering myself’? What about starting there in order to have the energy and compassion to extend to others? If I can have compassion for my own journey/feelings during this extraordinary time in history, will not that enable me to understand/hear and have compassion beyond myself. Then I am ready to extend ‘mothering’.

Only in self-compassion and owning my own emotions in this particular journey will I then have the energy and compassionate response to others to be mothering the world. Mirabai Starr writes in her book Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics, “…we need a mothering of the world together right now.” We need that feminine energy that is male and female brought forth to face these challenges.

I want to explicitly point out the fact that women who have not born children… mother; men… mother, It is part of our innate design if we own that part of ourselves. A friend taught me a profound lesson about mothering;

One particularly Mother’s Day, I was quite depressed; estranged from our son and blaming myself for his adult choices. A friend sent me a text that day that knew of the circumstances. “Kay, you have been mothering people your entire adult life. As a nurse, friend, manager, counselor, consultant and the list goes on. So today claim all the mothering you have and do. Let that bring comfort.”

So I am challenging myself as I write to this audience, let my ‘mothering show forth’; let my love be visible and make me an instrument that releases a song of ‘Love, Love, Love…’

Going on without denying any aspect of the human drama is what strength is all about. We are carved by life into instruments that will release our song, if we can hold each up to the carving.
Mark Nepo

^1”Feminine Images of God”: Yehudah Mirsky, Jewish Women’s Archive.

²CBE (cbeinternational.org) (Christians for Biblical Equality). “The Feminine Imagery of God in the Hebrew Bible.” Joan P. Schaupp | October 30, 2000.

©Kay Klinkenborg, Revised May 2023 (May 2022)

Crawling Out of the Hole

by Jane Jones*

I’m constantly amazed at how the Holy One works – we just have to learn to (as my Gramma Milly would say), “Let go. Let God.”

I suppose I can admit to the fact that as a lifelong “fixer” this is one hard task! I’m used to being in charge of something – I’ve trusted what I’ve known as “The Voice” my whole life, and so when I feel called to take on a challenge, I tend to step up to the plate and get to work.

Often, I’m successful in these attempts, because I believe the Holy One uses me as a tool for the good in this world. I feel humble and grateful to be chosen to help…but what happens when you suddenly find yourself on the other end of fixing?

Four years ago, real life of a different type happened and suddenly, I was the one who needed help at the deepest level anyone could know. A relationship I treasured and totally devoted myself to suddenly ended; my marriage of 22 years ran into a cement wall. I was blind-sided, shocked, heartbroken. In one day, my whole world took a 180-degree turn.

The circumstances swirling around it were ugly, very public, and it all ripped me apart. So much pain, so much doubt about myself, so many details forcing me to step into a life I truly never expected to live – on my own.

I went down a very dark hole, doing all the things another instinct tells us to do to ease the pain, and I wondered how I’d ever crawl out of it again.

This Fixer was in desperate need of being brought back to life.

Here’s the part where the God reveals just how amazing a Being God is…

At the worst time I’ve ever experienced, I was surrounded by a cloud of atypical saints, (most of them not people of faith!) and each one of them contributed to the healing journey I found myself on.

I truly was never alone.

Did you know that the God has many disguises? Do you remember that Spirit can show up in the oddest places at just the right moment (in the wrong place) to give you a poke, reminding you who and Whose you are? Did you know that getting through a life-changing event can change you in ways you never thought you would know and understand; dropping new hope, new strength, new life right at your feet?

These aren’t just buzz words thrown at us during a sermon in any church…this is absolute Truth.

I know this, because I’ve been constantly in awe of how the Holy One works – how the Holy One reaches out – always, and often when you least expect it.

With honest love from friends, family, even people I didn’t know personally, I’m finding my way back. I’m crawling out of that dark hole, one step at a time. I’m also learning about real forgiveness – God’s trademark – and true peace.

The newer me is a modified version for sure, (and a better one, I think) – and as I squint each morning at a much brighter day ahead, I find that I’m not the only one who has suffered such loss. There is so much to grieve about in this world these days…The Voice is telling me that it’s time to get to work again.

What’s different, though, is that instead of being a fixer, I’m now a “mender” because we’re all in this together. We need to patch up the torn places…and keep going.

It feels good to step up to the plate again.

Thanks, Holy One.

*Jane Jones served as the licensed pastor for First Congregational Church in Prescott from 2009 – 2015, has been SWC’s Moderator and Moderator Elect, is almost a former member of COCAM B, and currently sits in on Faith Formation ZOOM meetings. She will be one of the facilitators at the “Doing Grief Community Healing Project” at Church of the Palms in Sun City.

The Unexpected Parade

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

In an essay entitled “In Today, Already Walks Tomorrow,” Joseph Hankins recalls a Peanuts cartoon from years ago. In the first panel Charlie Brown says to Linus, “I learned something in school today. I signed up for folk guitar, computer programming, art, and a music appreciation class.” He continues, “I got spelling, history, arithmetic, and two study periods.” “So, what did you learn?” Linus asks. And Charlie Brown replies, “I learned that what you sign up for and what you get are two different things.” (Vital Speeches of the Day, October, 1997.)

If you’ve lived long enough, you totally understand what Charlie Brown is saying. One author wrote, “If you want to hear God laugh, go ahead and tell your plans.” Life rarely turns out like we expect. And perhaps no event teaches us this lesson more clearly than the event of Palm Sunday.

From the gospels we learn that Jesus and his followers come into Jerusalem and there is quite a show. For all reasonable purposes, it certainly seems like a parade and it seems like a political parade because of the waving of palms, the symbol of Jewish independence, waved for national heroes and because of what they say, at least in Mark’s version. They shout Hosanna, the nearest translation in English being, “God save the king!” The people participating in this parade, people marching and singing and shouting and waving palms, have a certain expectation of what this event means. Jesus is the new king of Israel and the days of oppression under Rome are coming to an end. Jesus is taking them to a revolution, to freedom from occupation. Jesus is finally setting them free. That’s what they expect. The parade people, maybe the disciples, maybe everyone, expect that Jesus is getting ready to change everything. And on that mark, they are right, but their expectations of how Jesus was going to do that were however, completely off the mark.

There is a lot about life that turns out that way, don’t you think? There are a lot of things we begin with that turn out to be completely different in the end. We get married and expect that we will always be in love with that person. We expect that we will be together until death do us part. And then, well, marriage isn’t quite what we expected and we find ourselves separated and then divorced. We have children, raise them up expecting them to share our values, want the same things in life that we do, and then we discover that our children are nothing like we expected. We go to college, pick a major, and expect that we will find careers that suit us, that fit who we are, and that we will stay in the same place with the same company forever. And well, all of us know how that turns out. We put our money in 401K’s. We invest in secure places. We expect that we can retire and live without too much discomfort and oh, haven’t we discovered that our expectations didn’t work out quite as we had thought? We expect that we will be ready for the deaths of loved ones and we aren’t. We expect that our health will hold up and it doesn’t. We expect that our church will always be there and we expect that nations will be moral. So often, none of these things are true. But the important part of this story is that Jesus shows up. Even when he must understand the peoples’ presence, his disciples’ expectations and friends’ dreams are not in line with what is about to happen. Still he shows up, with humility and wisdom. And love.

John Vannorsdall wrote: “Palm Sunday is not a day when we throw up our hands because Jesus was killed. It’s not a day of pessimism when we condemn the people who went home to supper, the crowds which later became ugly. It’s not a day when we get morose over the money changers in the temple and declare that nothing ever turns out well, that even God’s small parade was a fiasco. Palm Sunday, rather, is a day when we say, knowing all of this, knowing that people are fickle, get tired of parades and go home, knowing that religious leaders like things neat and tidy and kill reformers, knowing that the humble truth teller is walked upon, knowing that people will sell their souls for a handful of silver, knowing that even good friends will sleep when we suffer, it’s a day when knowing all this, Jesus came riding.”

The truth in Palm Sunday is that the event that started in a parade to celebrate Jesus, ended in a mob gathering to kill Jesus. And the lesson to be learned is that nothing ever really turns out as we expected. That doesn’t, however, mean that we have been forsaken by God. It doesn’t mean we are being punished or abandoned. It means that even when the parade doesn’t take you where you want to go, there is still the opportunity to grow in your faith, and share in the work of grace you have been called to do. Even as our expectations are not fulfilled, God is still present, active, and involved in our lives.

The Seeds of Others

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

Once we moved into a church parsonage in Washington State in late October where I took the position as Interim Pastor. The front and back yards, though small, had landscaped flower beds wrapping around the house and garage. No one told us what was planted in the beds. No one told us what to expect once winter ended. In the first few weeks of spring at least forty or fifty bulbs had broken through the thawed ground and by early May, this house we called home for a few more months, was surrounded by color, bathed in the hues of spring. We came to realize that we lived in a beauty imagined and created by the hearts and hands of others.

In that season of birth and new growth and in a place gardened by others, I was reminded of the power of planting seeds. I was reminded of the hope that emerges in the hearts of planters, how diligently farmers and gardeners rake and plow and dig and make way for life. Every year lovers of the earth go to nurseries and stores, purchase the seeds or bulbs that offer possibilities, and in faith, with care and hope, drop them into the earth in joyful anticipation. Most plant gardens for themselves but some folks, like the anonymous members of that church, hearty ones who love to landscape and care for church properties, plant their bulbs and seeds for others.

It is the same in spiritual gardens. We plant seeds of kindness, faith, hope, joy, love, peace, and patience in our own hearts, hoping to enjoy the bounty of our work and desire. We plant seeds within our souls, toiling with tools to grow spiritual gifts that we look forward to see come to fruition. We pray and study and meditate and practice for us to become patient, to become kind, to become people of peace and love. It is the harvest of our work for our own souls. But we also plant seeds in the hearts of others, in temporary places, in organizations, places of worship, in souls of those who may or may not ever know our names. We plant seeds without having to reap the bounty. We plant seeds without needing to watch the garden grow. We plant seeds letting the hope of what might come, the power of what may spring forth, the joy we expect for someone else, to be reason enough to keep planting.

I’m sure I could have asked members of the Trustees who planted those bulbs that grew in perfectly-spaced rows, filling the beds in the front and back yards of the parsonage and someone would have given me names; but I did not. Instead as they popped and bloomed I thought of the people in my life who planted seeds within my soul and never saw what grew. I think of grandmothers and teachers, the parents of my adolescent friends, the authors of books that shaped me, the countless words of wisdom from others that fell like seeds in my soul and have finally begun to bloom. I will think of planting my own seeds, being kind to strangers, writing words of hope, working for justice and peace, and learn how to be content with just the planting. It takes faith to grow a garden you don’t get to harvest. It takes faith to plant a seed. I know because I lived that season in the center of someone else’s hopes for spring.

Do Lent, or not do Lent

by Rev. Talitha Arnold, Senior Pastor, United Church of Santa Fe

“What the heck is Lent?” a friend asked. “What’s with the ashes, the morose songs, the somber colors? I thought the United Church was for happy Christians. Why do we have to do Lent?”

Truth be known, we don’t. “Doing Lent” or giving up something for the next 40 days isn’t required at the United Church of Santa Fe. As part of the United Church of Christ, we’re in the reform Protestant tradition (Congregational, Disciples of Christ, Baptists, etc.) that historically didn’t “do” Lent. In fact, many “free church” Protestants looked with suspicion on Lent. Some still do. Lent was something those Catholics, Lutherans, or Episcopalians did. The ashes, giving up meat or candy, all that purple was a bit too Popish or liturgical for our tastes. As my friend said, we were supposed to be happy Christians.

Other Protestants didn’t mark Lent, because as one friend observed, in her church it was Lent all the time. With all the rules against dancing, drinking, and card playing, they didn’t have anything to give up!

So technically, we don’t have to do anything or give up anything for Lent at the United Church of Santa Fe. But many of us have found that Easter has deeper meaning, if we set aside Lent’s 40 days for something other than life or business as usual.

If we wanted to sing in a concert, we’d need to set aside time to rehearse. To compete in a basketball tournament, we’d take time to practice our free throws. The same is true for our experience of Easter. To know new life in any form—spiritually, physically, intellectually—we need to take time to practice. Setting aside the 40 days of Lent for study, prayer, silence, and other spiritual disciplines is a way to engage new ideas, new feelings, new possibilities.

Sometimes to let in new life, we also have to let go of some things. Before you start a new project, you might need to clear off your desk. Before you ran a marathon, you might want to shed some weight. The same is true of our souls. Sometimes we need to clean out and shed extra baggage to make room for something new.

Observing Lent is not required for admission to Easter at the United Church. Come Easter morning, you’ll be as welcome at United as you are any morning.

But perhaps if we take the 40 days of Lent to practice new life or if we set aside time to remember the sacredness of our lives and all life, then maybe, just maybe, Easter might have a new meaning for us this year. We don’t have to “do Lent,” but we might be surprised what’s possible if we do.

Fasten your seat belts—Lent has come!

Get ready—because Easter is on its way!

Native American Heritage Month…Last Edition: Forming Kinship Bonds with Indigenous People

by Church of the Palms member Kay Klinkenborg, MA, Spiritual Director, Member Spiritual Directors International, Retired: RN, LMFT, Clinical Member AAMFT

The Church of the Palms 19^th Annual Interfaith Conference is over; the Indigenous worship service took place. Likely we are having one of three responses. One, it is with some anticipation of what might be possible in forming bonds with Indigenous people of Maricopa County and our surrounding towns. Or two, it might be with relief that I have learned all I need to know about Indigenous history and I get it…they experienced near extinction from European colonization, genocide, forced relocation, and ongoing oppression exists. Or three, I still believe what I absorbed, heard or was taught and nothing has changed in how I see ‘this group’ of people.

Having just been through our own ‘white’ ritual of the Thanksgiving holiday it brings me to offer a few thoughts about ‘kinship.’ Is that not how God designed all of creation? It is interactive, it is about relationships. It is about giving thanks for what we have that we didn’t even ask for? Is it not about claiming that all humans, all species and living things are on this journey together? Theologians and environmentalists remind us that in our ‘Hebrew Christian creation story’ humans were created last. Not for dominion over all things prior to us…but that the world could exist without us. It is all here and we are connected to it all.

We have been given the opportunity to receive many lessons from our Indigenous speakers, our bulletin inserts about their gifts and knowledge and how collaboratively we can make a more peaceful world of harmony and support and advocacy for all oppressed or silenced people.

Matthew Fox says it more powerfully: “Our calling is a form of “Radical companionship,” both primordial and eternal, in that it recognizes that we are never separate from one another, but forever bound, and inextricably entwined. It is even beyond such catchy concepts as “interdependent,” and reflects a closeness with God and the Universe beyond simple transactions and interactions. So much so that we are not “co-“ or “inter-“ anything, but rather so tightly bound as to be inseparable. There is no “me” and “thee” here, there is no “other.” And we have no choice in the matter, regardless of what we may choose to think or believe. We can’t help being one. We just are.”

Need I say more? I am owning my own ‘call’ to be more intentional about kinship, companionship and catching my unconscious ‘othering’ and working on unconditional love, justice and extending extravagant welcome to all. As Pastor Jim Alexander stated in his sermon on ‘advocacy’ when teaching about the widow before the judge, the lessons are: be insistent, persistent and consistence. This remains a life-long task.

Migrating Home

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

I always hear them before I ever see them. Their call is a throaty, high pitched warble and when lots of them are calling, it sounds like a gathering of excited tourists, shouting to each other from across a crowded street. The Sandhill Cranes arrive every year, migrating south, spending the winters in a hodgepodge of fields about a hundred miles south of Albuquerque, New Mexico. Tens of thousands of them make the annual trek, overcoming great hardships, surviving hunters and pollution, desert winds and human population explosions; every year, winter after winter, they come.

Migrations happen all the time, everywhere. We all know the stories; some of us even follow the species. There are migratory movements of butterflies, hummingbirds, salmon, and even dragonflies. It seems as if there are a lot of creatures genetically predisposed to move from place to place.

Scientists tell us that triggers for migration may be local climate, mating purposes, local availability of food, or because of the season of the year. Whatever the pull, they keep going, generations after generations, migrators still migrate.

I believe that humans migrate too. I’m not just speaking about movements from rural life to urban existence or a relocating toward more opportunities or better jobs; I’m talking about a spiritual migration, the internal compass that we all have that guides us to head in the direction of goodness.

We don’t hear about that migration very much. The news gives us other headlines, stories that talk about our propensity toward greed and evil. We hear much more about our leaning in the direction of selfishness and violence. And of course, we know these stories all too well. However, there is something else in our make-up, something that drives us to a better existence, something pulling us to kindness and generosity. We are made in the divine image of our creator and because we have that image stamped upon us, there is a natural migration towards our best selves, our goodness.

Occasionally, we do hear those stories too. We hear about the heroic efforts of those who bear no thoughts for their own safety, rushing headlong to the aid of others in need. We hear about children, not yet cynical about our species, deeply moved by the suffering of others and who remind adults that as human beings we must care for each other. We hear those stories and we are moved by them and not because they are interesting or foreign. We are moved by them because they remind of us of who we really are, where we are meant to be.

It is easy to forget our divine calling, how we were created, what we really need to survive. Many of us have lost our way, feel unable to make the return journey to what sustains us. But the species is not lost. We still know the path. We just need to remember what we have always known. Just listen to your heart. You will get back home.

The Gift of the Vote

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

I know it sounds crazy but I always weep when I vote. It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s not because of the polarization in our country or that my chosen candidate is not likely to win. It’s not because I feel sad or tired or weary, though voting seasons can leave me feeling those emotions.

I weep because I am always mindful of what was required from others for me to have the right to vote. I’ve seen the documentaries, read accounts of the women fighting for the right to vote. I know how they were jailed, force fed during their hunger strikes. I know they faced danger and harassment and suffered great losses for their commitment to pass the 19^th amendment in 1919. I know those stories of courage.

I weep because I remember in 1994 when South Africans stood in line for days to finally be able to cast their votes and elect Nelson Mandela as the nation’s president, finally putting an end to apartheid. I saw the news reports of the miles-long lines of people withstanding hunger, danger, and fatigue, refusing to give up and go home when they were forced to wait. I know those stories of perseverance.

I weep because I think of people like Fannie Mae Hamer who was beaten because of her work for voters rights in the 1960’s, of how many times and how many places people of color were turned away from the polls, how many of them lost their jobs, their livelihoods, their lives, to get to the polls, how so many died trying to register voters or cast their ballots. I know those stories of faith.

I weep because I know there are countless places in our world where religion and politics disallow women to vote, where the voting doesn’t matter because of corruption, and places where voting just simply doesn’t happen for anyone.

Voting is not to be taken lightly.

This election will not bring us closer together. This election will not cure the ills of our nation or usher in some new world order of peace and unity. In many aspects, we have lost our way in knowing how to build bridges, how to work together, how to put aside our hatred and resentment and create a government and society that allows for differences, where leaders from all sides sit down at the table and are willing to listen to one another. I doubt the state of affairs will somehow become better no matter the election outcomes. Still, the right to vote was a costly one for our ancestors. The right to go and stand in line and cast a ballot is a great privilege that has been given to us on the backs of those who fought before us.

So, make sure to vote; and while you wait to be handed the long white sheet of paper; when you enter your private queue, take the pen and color in the circle of your choice; when you hand over your completed ballot and walk out the door, take a minute and remember this privilege that is ours today. Take a breath and be grateful.

You might just shed a tear too.

Comfort prayer for a friend

by Rev. Deb Church

Our Father who art in Heaven—
and who is with us, wherever we are…

…hallowed be thy name.
Your name, O God, is holy
and rests in our hearts
and on our tongues
sometimes like honey
sometimes like vinegar
sometimes a blessing
sometimes more like a curse
sometimes coming out in a song of praise
sometimes, escaping in a groan from the depths of our souls
But always, O God, holy is your name…

…Thy kingdom come—
in all the places
and in all the spaces
we are.
Come, healing and wholeness
Come, truth and justice
Come, forgiveness and belonging
Come, mercy and grace
Come, peace and hope
Come, love and Beloved
Come, Reality and Reign of God…

…Thy will be done—
as we trust in you
with hearts soaring
and hearts breaking
anxious and angry
grieving and confused,
as we place our loved ones
and our lives
in your strong and gentle hands,
letting go of control
holding on to hope
letting go of outcomes
holding on with trust
letting go of fear
holding on in Love…

…on earth as it is in heaven—
right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
as we journey
from dust back to dust
embodied Spirit
walking around in
these bodies
clay pots
cracked
beautiful
broken
whole
Holiness
found right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
of our world…

Give us this day—
today
now
in these moments
in this moment…

…our daily bread—
what will feed us
what will nourish us
what we need
in these moments
whether we
know it
recognize it
see it
feel it
or not…

…and forgive us our sins—
Forgive us, O God.
Forgive us
for our messiness
for our mistakes
Forgive us
for the hurt we inflict
without wanting to
and for hurt we long to inflict
that all comes from
the hurt we’ve received
Forgive us
for the hurt we cause
that we don’t know and
for the hurt we cause
because we don’t know
our woundedness
Forgive us, O God…

…as we forgive those who sin against us—
as we look with compassion
at those who hurt us
out of their hurt
as we look with tenderness
at those who hate us
having made us bearers
of the hate they feel
for themselves and cannot name
As we offer mercy
that we have received
to those who deserve it no more than we do
who deserve it no less than we do
Forgive us our sins, O God, with the same freedom
with which we forgive
or not
those who sin against us…

…and lead us not into temptation—
Keep us from going down
easy paths
of self-pity
well-worn paths
of shame and blame
familiar paths
of regret and guilt
paths that are so easy to follow
paths that take us
to no place good…

…but deliver us from evil—
and instead
into Hope
into Healing
into Peace
into Joy
into Love…

…for thine
is the kingdom
and the power
and the glory
forever—
And ever.
And ever.
And ever.
Always.
No matter what.
Amen.
And amen.

From Deb: Here’s something I wrote last night…as a prayer for a dear friend whose husband (who is also a dear friend) was near death. They are both members of my church, and I love them dearly. They’ve been in California for the last several months, while he was receiving treatment for his cancer. He died this morning… I hope and pray that something in this “fleshed out” version of the Lord’s Prayer gave his wife some bit of comfort last night, or perhaps will at some point in the future.