Holy God, I am empty. I wake up to Manchester, England, I go to bed to London Bridge falling down, and I feel empty, lost. I apologize, you expect more from me.
To be in good company doesn’t let me off the hook. The terrors that pursued Elijah made him want to lie down and never give up. The widow of Zarephath saw no way out from the evils that overwhelmed her, so she was prepared to give up.
But God, You sent an angel to Elijah, You sent Elijah to the widow. You disrupted the despair, You overcame the depression, You out-loved the fear.
God, without your help we don’t see a way beyond this age of terrorism. Our leaders resort to fear. But why not? We are afraid. They count on anger because we are angry.
God, You made us in your image, just a little lower than angels. You count on great things from us. You tell us to be perfect, to be leaven in the bread, to add salt to the taste of life. I don’t think I can. Not on my own.
Yet, here I am praying to you. Whenever I am under attack, in body or mind or soul, I pray to You. In doubt, in anger, in fear I pray to You. Deep down inside I know that there is a love, a path, a salvation stronger than whatever seeks to destroy me.
So again I turn to all the pieces of my faith – to hymns and scriptures, to prayer and worship. Maybe there is a Balm in Gilead, or a Blessed Assurance, even an Amazing Grace.
“God of grace and God of glory
on thy people pour thy power…
cure thy children’s warring madness…
Grant us wisdom,
grant us courage
for the living of these days.”
Forgive me, Lord, for being so down. Can you send us an angel, or an Elijah? Amen.
(God of Grace, God of Glory, Harry Emerson Fosdick, Chalice Hymnal)