This prayer brought to you by my recent stint at the Historic Congressional Cemetery (volunteering, not staying).
Prayer #81: Graveyard
Each day, we have a funeral. We die a little, cry a bit, bury a teeny grave, and leave our woes and frustrations and expectations in hidden mounds around our existence.
But out of sight is not out of mind. These graveyards of our lives are fresh earth. They give way beneath our feet. They remind us we are flawed and fleeting. They are our-fault lines.
So what would happen if we didn't bury our imperfections, but embraced them? Didn't hide them in shame, but released them? Then the ground would be unbroken. Wisdom from the deed -- rather than knowledge of where we hid the bodies -- would guide us.
We wouldn't perish, but simply let go.
God of the living, uncover all the little graveyards of my life. Exhume the tired ghosts; let them evaporate. And as soon as You've lifted my gaze from the ground, my eyes are Yours for the seeing.