A prayer for the second Sunday after the Epiphany (when we’re running out answers for the year. (Already))


The year is two weeks old.

All around us we are aware of needs.

As much as we try, we are not enough.

This family lost three people in two weeks. That nation lost three thousand.
This family lost a job. That community lost a business.
This family finally got the home they’ve been seeking. That community lost whole streets.
This family has a baby. Or a daughter in law. Or both.

Each hour we look at our social media, we are aware that we cannot understand all the hate, be present for the grief, encourage all the persistence, offer all the wisdom.

We cannot do it for others. We often cannot do it for ourselves.

But you can.

In your presence, in your power, in your compassion which have been and will be forever, we come to you. You ask what we want. And this is what we want.

To the grieving, be comfort.

To the rejoicing, be laughter.

To the struggling, be present.

To the wondering, be wisdom.

To the flagging, be courage.

To the confused, be clarity.

To the lonely, be love.

Today and always.

Through Christ our Lord.