Prayers from the Island After Easter Prayer

After Easter Prayer

An After-Easter Prayer

Behind him [John] came Simon Peter, and he went straight into the tomb. He saw the linen cloths lying there, and the cloth which had been around Jesus’ head. It was not lying with the linen cloths but was rolled up by itself” John 20:6-7

Dear Lord, I’ve always wondered about this detail in the Easter story. John describes the cloths so carefully, as if they have significance. What if the new year begins the day after Easter? Jesus went through abuse, torture, and crucifixion for my sake, because He valued me highly. Why? Why go through all that agony for me? Having learned of His sacrifice, what’s expected of me? How am I supposed to live my life Post-Easter?

The period following Easter is the perfect time to self-examine, determine the issues and problems that trouble my life. There are weaknesses requiring treatment, behavior I need to cast off. Those discarded funeral wraps Jesus left behind are a symbol of sins in my life, sins making my life tattered and soiled. As an example, forgiveness is difficult for me; I claim I’ve forgiven individuals, but again and again I focus on their behavior and become angry once more. It’s not only others I can’t forgive, Lord. I accept your forgiveness, I try to convince myself you’ve washed me clean, but things I’ve done still trouble me, making me ashamed. I need to take off that wrapping of guilt and hardness of heart—leave it behind and work to forgive myself and others.

We’re told to love; love is the most emphasized gift of the Holy Spirit. I know this and yet I love like a miser, carefully weighing slights, balancing my love against the love I receive. I accept the endless love you have for me, Dear Lord, but I distribute love as though it’s a finite amount, against your infinite love. My failure to love with abandon is another layer of torn wrapping that needs removal, cast off and left behind in an empty tomb.

Judge not, we’re told, but my judgment is immediate and stern. How easy to win my approval—do what I do, think as I do, and behave as I prescribe. For ‘the other’, those who don’t behave as I like, my judgment falls hammer-like. I understand in my heart it’s wrong to be self-righteous, but breaking away from old habits is difficult. This too, Lord, needs to change. I want to accept others without assessing their ‘value’ to me. Help me strip away my soiled coat of judgment, leave it behind, old and out-dated.

I know, Lord, change will be difficult. How can I battle these old, familiar sins and become the resurrected woman you want me to be? Please lend me that linen cloth, a cloth that covered your face, a cloth so carefully folded and set aside. Let me use that cloth to cleanse, to give me a clean purpose once I’ve discarded those raggedy clothes. Only with your help, Lord, can I dress myself in a new Easter outfit, clad in your gift of redemption and grace. With your help I leave behind the tomb rags of the past and move into new life.

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God is Everywhere!God is Everywhere!

Chicory or cornflower is blooming on the island, lining the road near the park.  Whenever I see the sky-blue blossoms, I am suddenly swept back into my childhood.  One summer I had to cross a busy street to reach vacation Bible school.  As a group of us waited for traffic to clear, I stared at the chicory awash with color in a nearby vacant lot, mirroring the blue of the sky.  Each morning in school we sang, “God is in the flowers and the birds that sing—God is everywhere!” My attention was captured by God’s presence in the chicory, as if I could watch him at work in the flower.  Perhaps then I could see him at work in my childhood innocence; perhaps I still can.  I pray, God, you will give us both a world that is beautiful and eyes to appreciate that beauty.  I thank you, Lord, for being in those chicory blossoms and for welcoming me into your world here on earth and your world above in Heaven. Amen.

Planting PansiesPlanting Pansies

 I planted a flat of pansies today, eager for spring’s splash of color in my heard.  The island consists entirely of sand and oyster shells, so maintaining soil is difficult.  I try to add topsoil, but it filters through the sand and vanishes.  I must work at growing flowers on the island, digging, replenishing, fertilizing and watering.

My religious life is like that too.  I can’t take for granted that an occasional watering or spading or fertilizing will suffice; I need to work at my faith, keeping it weeded and tended.  Too often I assume the seeds of faith planted as a child should be enough to last me all my life, but that’s not good enough.  Please forgive me, Father, when I neglect my garden of faith; help me to be a more faithful, diligent, and joyful gardener.

Mine!Mine!

I watched a gull with a large fish in his mouth bent over at the edge of the beach.  He seemed worried that I would steal the fish from him, and so tried to pick it up and fly, but the weight made flight almost impossible.  Again and again, the fish fell from his beak, once almost slipping into the ocean and escaping.  I stopped my walk so the bird could eat the fish in peace, but he was convinced I would grab it, still trying to hurry it to safety.  I felt sorry for the gull; I didn’t want his fish and would have avoided him if I could.  Sadly, I am sometimes like that gull, so worried that others will take from me what is “mine”, that I risk losing it in the very act of protecting it!  In church I sing that all I have is a gift from God, and yet in my daily life I label “Mine!” too often, spending my energies, like the gull, protecting what is in no danger of loss and losing what is most valuable.  Forgive me, Lord, when I worry more about what is mine than about what is yours.  Help me share generously as you have so richly shared with me. Amen.