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Prayer for the Day:
Easter Sunday Embracing the Mystery

 

Although I long to understand  .  .  .

Although I long to know  .  .  .

Although I fancy wisdom  .  .  .

Although I crave the light  .  .  .

I know how little I know.

I know how often I am confused,

confounded,

muddled.

Help me to be clear about this at least:

that I know little;

that I miss more than I see;

that I am surprised more often,

far more often, than

I ever admit.

I love days of blue skies and clear horizons.

I love the clear map, the vivid description.

I love the clear instruction,

the quick result,

the method that works, the prediction that comes true.

I love that resonance when a story or a poem

unfolds with insights already

familiar.

I love the thrill of recognition:

I know that,

I know this,

I know you,

I know them.

I love to know why,

how,

where

and when.

Alas, it is so rarely like this,

’tis never thus.

The mountain range of knowledge:

hidden in mist from me.

I see a foothill, and know that every summit is false.

I walk over rock. I can’t even begin to

understand its story.

I see the planets – how many can I name?

Can I say how the winds reshape the clouds?

The night-time journey. I

imagine a clear path, an open road,

floodlights, headlights, clear signs.

I find myself in a Devon lane:

high hedges, sharp bends, cloudy sky,

no moon, no stars.

The headlights have broken, sidelights

only glow in the dark.

Yet I do see a little.

But no, not enough.

Not nearly enough.

The light: a single, flickering, vulnerable

flame, the sun diffused through mist, a dim torch

making its own horizon.

I need to see more, know more,

understand better.

Unless, unless, unless  .  .  .

I accept it.

Accept the truth of my lack of vision,

my lack of wisdom and understanding, and

begin to learn how to walk: to develop

the confidence, courage and patience

simply to put one foot in front of the other.

And so I pray:

not for wisdom,

not to see more,

not to understand better,

not to find life predictable,

not to be the one who knows  .  .  .

but for the grace

to see enough through my own beclouded eyes,

to accept the morning mist in my mind

and to walk into

mystery.

Stephen Cherry


(taken from Barefoot Prayers, published by SPCK)

Easter Sunday  Embracing the Mystery - jacket

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decorative image - Inspire

The happiness question...

...from 'Inspire'

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Pentecost Resource 2014
PENTECOST:
THE BIRTH OF THE WORLD CHURCH
(image by Jean Sader, in possesion of 
the Maronite Archbishop of Cyprus,
used with permission)

 
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