Dear Friends,
We hope that you are safe and well.
Today's Meditation was sent to us by Audre Cerra. It was sent out to members of the Unitarian Universalist Meeting House in Provincetown, MA by their Senior Minister Rev. Kate Wilkinson.
We invite you to join us as we commit ourselves to working tirelessly to end systemic and structural racism in our society, in the church, in healthcare, in the workplace--wherever it shows up so that everyone may come to have more abundant life. May this meditation nourish our contemplative-active hearts and sustain all of us in action.
In the spirit of our philosophy of co-creating community and our awareness that the Spirit speaks through each of us, we invite you to share your meditations with us as well. We truly believe that it is God's economy of abundance: when we share our blessings, our thoughts, our feelings, we are all made richer.
We hope and pray that you find peace, healing, hope and the infusion of joy in your life!
With our love and care,
Ron and Jean
MEDITATION 682: "Prayer for a Sad Day" Rev. M. Barclay
Dear UUMH Folk,
All day I’ve been wanting to reach out to you in the wake of this latest school shooting to check in and see how you are doing, to share the rage, to collectively figure out what steps we can take to end this senseless gun violence.
And I realize that I’m having trouble finding the words because… I’m just sad. So sad that more children have died because of our gun culture, because of our addiction to freedoms over responsibility, because we don’t have enough mental health services, and because of the grip that lobbyists have over our political system.
I’ll find other words in the coming days and months that speak to these things, but for today, I came upon this prayer that spoke to me today. So that is what I’ll share with you.
Holding you all in my heart.
Holding Uvalde, Texas in my heart. And Buffalo, NY. And Laguna Woods, CA.
Rev. Kate
Gentle Presence,
Patient Listener,
Holy Holder of it all,
My prayer is this:
I am so sad.
It’s not an ask.
It’s not a confession.
It’s an offering.
The only one I have today.
I’m praying it with hope.
I know grief is a lifeline –
tethering me to the world that should be.
The one worth fighting for.
As a practice of faith,
I will not deaden these feelings
that let me know all is not well.
I will not adjust to cruelty or disregard for life,
detaching myself from humanity – mine or others.
I will not allow once imaginable scenarios
to be turned into everyday losses
that no longer pierce my soul.
And so here are my tears,
And here is my tired body,
And here is my foggy, distracted mind
bearing witness to the place within
that aches for the ones I love,
for friends and strangers,
for everyone being pushed into impossible situations.
My sadness is a testimony.
It is not my only one.
Tomorrow, hope or fight or curiosity
will bear their truth,
and pull me back into the labors I love,
in the company of others.
But today the only riot in me is this sorrow,
refusing to quiet your cry from within:
“We are made for so much better than this.”
– Rev. M Barclay