O Lord,
there are times,
after the storm,
the bomb,
the earthquake,
the sickness,
the accident,
the crime
people shake their fists and say,
"If you loved us, how could you do this to us,
put us in a world where terror happens,
put us in a world where disaster rips out our hearts,
put us in a world where sickness steals our love,
the evil that men do empties our lives?"
How we long to blame when hurt,
how we long to kill the very thing
which stole our joy, our lives, our security,
and yet, how does one take revenge
on the shaking earth,
or sue the storm,
or arrest the plague?
Help us, God,
you, who have also been through the grieving process
as the Son,
betrayed, beaten, murdered,
the Son who saw friends and loved ones die,
who knew all those things
life brings that makes us want to rage,
strike out,
hit back.
O God, you the Father,
who saw what this world did to your son,
who saw the rejection,
who saw the murder,
and yet, for love refused to strike.
O God, you the Spirit,
you who moved upon the face of the deep,
you who quickened and brought life,
who filled the hearts of those who would listen,
how often did you see the message rejected,
the concept misunderstood,
the word twisted into personal agendas,
and yet you keep breathing your word of hope and love
even in the midst of sorrow and anguish, and despair.
O Lord, you know our pain!
How often have your arms wrapped around us,
when we, like Job,
beat our anger against your chest,
in our frustration,
our grief,
our fear,
our loss,
until at last, with anger spent,
those of us who will listen to your soft voice
come to see that we do not have the answers,
except that the world turns,
and the sun rises,
and we are much smaller than the universe,
and we are not God.
O Lord,
in our smallness and anger and grief,
remind us that you have given us the gift to grow,
and to choose,
and to accept or reject.
Help us choose the light,
even when it hurts and blinds our eyes.
Help us choose to grow,
even when the growth comes after great pain.
Help us choose to love.