While wiping down the sink and cleaning the kid’s breakfast this morning, my heart was sinking. It’s hot, a heavy heat, in my kitchen, in my heart. It’s the weight of prayers, pressing one on top of another, squeezing for every spare inch.
And so, while turning over a half emptied bowl of Cheerios and wiping up the soggy remains of milk bloated bits, I prayed.
First for the heavy, the huge. The healing wanted by friends and family. Lord, for those aching, for those hurting, for those hopeful of your touch and for those longing for a goodbye they may never have.
Lord, I pray. Bless them this morning.
I stepped on a LEGO while filling Dharma’s water bottle. I felt the swell of frustration rise. Bothersome mess. Heat. Focus.
Lord, (deep breath), thank you for my children. Thank you for the blessing we have that are above and beyond our needs. Thank you for cereal bowls that overflow.
For every moment when sarcasm might override gentleness, please still my tongue. For every instance when anger could trump patience, please still me.
Thank you for their smiles, for the compassion they show one another, sometimes seemingly in spite of my worst parenting fails. Thank you for the lessons you teach me, daily, through them.
Lord I pray. Bless them today.
I brewed coffee and glanced at the clock. Today is going to be a long, long day. A hot day. Twelve hours, most likely, between leaving for work and coming home.
But, oh God, thank you for this work. Thank you for the beauty of your world and the opportunity to capture even a glimmer. Thank you for the couple getting married today. Thank you for each of my clients.
Lord, I pray. Bless them today.
Before I knew it, my kitchen was cleaned, my laundry started, coffee made, the heat somehow felt dissipated enough to be bearable and the sinking of my heart, lifted.
Lord, for a habit of prayer instead of grumbling through housework and the mundane routines. For a habit of peace over chaos. For a habit of lifting my heart, even as I pull a tiny LEGO square from my foot, I pray.