Linda Mitchell hosts our Spiritual Journey cohort, offering this month’s prompt, inspired by her OLW: world. My world. Your world. Our world. You can find the links to each of our reflections here.
The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius invite retreatants to imagine God looking over the world. What might God see? The pain, the suffering. The joy, the love. The work, the play. I imagine lately that God might be doing a lot of crying these days.
Despite my struggle with religion, I believe fervently that God is with us. Waiting with us. Waiting for us. Waiting for us to offer a hand, to answer a call for help, to take the first step to love –even when it’s hard.
Without a religious practice, my children have let go of some of the rituals that were foundational to my personal faith, like Baptism. We use water and signs and symbols to both welcome someone into a community and to signify the blessing of hope.
That blessing is played out physically in the gestures of touching ears and mouth –that we may hear the voice of God in the world and speak with a voice of love; in oils placed on the crown of the head –that we may know we are –each of us – beloved; and blessings over the body – a sign to keep us strong in faith.
How do we face tomorrow and the day after and the day after that without a foundation of hope and love?
This is my prayer:
image courtesy of pixaby
the world waits
a hurricane of hurt lashing our collective bodies
finally turns away from land, heads out to sea
a tantrum almost out of toss
the world waits
an injured Earth, wobbly, unsteady
may pause, may catch its breath
pulsing heartrates slow
an impossible sun will rise
truth will crawl out from captivity
will remove its hands from its ears
when the curse of petty sideshows has run its course
baptize us with hope
bless us with love
© 2024 Patricia J. Franz
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Patricia, this is beautiful. I can relate in so many ways. My relationship with religion has been complicated in recent years. I required my children to attend church until a certain age…which was less than what was asked of me. In some ways, their release of religious practice is good. And yet, I was raised on the notion of tradition. I always feel like I get it wrong these days. But, I am unwavering in my faith that God is a God of love, present and ready for all of us. Thank you for your beautiful reflection and prayer poem. Amen and amen.
Patricia, despite the state of the world, there is always hope as your poem/prayer beautifully states. God may be crying, but He is there to guide and support us. We just need to believe in Him as well as ourselves.
Sigh…and the state of the world needs a lot of hope and prayer! Ugh!
There is so much comfort to be found in ritual and tradition. I think, as humans, we need ritual – especially for these moments of big transition. For me, Church provided those. But like anything, if it doesn’t resonate with someone else the same way, then it loses its value. And we are left to consider whether we need to find a repllacement. And change is hard.