God of all creatures,
today we praise you for groundhogs, unassuming rodents who carry the tradition and mystery of forecasting spring. From their elaborate burrows they rise, half dead: groggy from hibernation, hungry, alone, stressed; awakened by an inner clock synchronized with the rhythms of the seasons that tells them it is time to explore and prepare for the next generation. We pray for all creatures who count the days until the weather changes, until winter loosens its grip, until they can reconnect with others. We pray for all who are tired, who are hungry or dissatisfied, who are lonely or isolated. In this time between solstice and equinox reassure us that sooner or later spring will come. Grant us patience to see the gifts of this particular time, and to savour the stillness. In our exhaustion release us from stress so that we might find rest. In moments of hunger or dissatisfaction remind us that there is enough. In our isolation be a comforting presence. We pray that whether the sun shines or the sky is grey, we will count each day as a gift with moments of wonder. Let hope rise up in us, as we align our bodies and spirits to your greater purposes beyond what we see this day. Amen. - Wendy Janzen
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O God:
Bearer of mystery, Lover of life, Presence born of Earth and Spirit; In these short days and long nights of the New Year we cautiously seek signs of hope despite the unmooring we've experienced in the past days and months. As we venture tentatively forward, guide us with your gentle hand. In our uncertainty, be our grounding. When we are overwhelmed, let us find solace in the cycles of creation and the seasons. Remind us that winter is always followed by spring, and death is followed by new life. Help us to see you in the everyday beauty of sunshine, kindness, and compassion. Expand our vision and our hearts. Amen. -Wendy Janzen First published in The Unmooring journal. Holy Radiance,
Your light reflects glory, inspires grace. Shimmering, revealing, holding nothing back, guiding forth, bold and brave to ignite hope for what lies ahead; to love everything without condition; to embrace all the Earth with compassion. Sacred Light, Illuminate us. Amen - Wendy Janzen Mother Earth,
You are our home Nest, burrow, hollow log, web, reef, den... Condo, farmhouse, shack, mcmansion... You shelter us, Water us, Provide for us, Sustain us, and Hold us in your care. May we, in loving turn, Hold you and touch you with tenderness. May we tread lightly, Respectfully, With awe. We celebrate and give thanks, We lament and ask forgiveness. We rise up as actors and advocates Voices for the voiceless, As homes and habitats sit on the brink, As temperature rises, And plastic chokes. You are our one precious home. Help us clean up our act. Amen - Wendy Janzen Written for World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation, September 1, which kicks of the Season of Creation for many liturgical churches around the world. few evening prayers, some used at our August sunset service, another inspired by an evening walk through my local cemetery.
O Gracious Giver of the Day, Like the earth circling the sun, Blessings have circled our day. Our eyes scan the horizons Of your goodness. Standing tall with thanksgiving We praise you with grateful hearts. O Mystery within Mystery, Touch the paradoxes of this day With your healing breath. Let your mantle of peace Clothe us in this evening hour... All shall be well; all shall be well. Amen. - Macrina Wiederkehr, excerpts Sunset Prayer I’ll let you in on a secret About how one should pray The sunset prayer. It’s a juicy bit of praying, Like strolling on grass, Nobody’s chasing you, Nobody hurries you. You walk toward your Creator With gifts in pure, empty hands. The words are golden, Their meaning is transparent, It’s as though you’re saying them For the first time. The day is departing with a quiet kiss. It lies open at your feet While you stand saying the blessings. You can’t create anything yourself, But you can lead the day to its end And see clearly the smile Of its going down. - Jacob Glatstein, excerpts In the great lights of the night sky And its unbounded stretches of space We glimpse the shinings of your presence, O God. In the universe of our soul And its boundless depths We look for emanations of your light. Bless us this night And enfold us in your darkness. Amen. - John Philip Newell, adapted I move with expectation Into the dusk Longing to see the foxes Who have been spotted Playing among gravestones. The western sky Glows faint pink as Darkness descends. Moon rises through trees Bats loop erratically overhead Cicadas and crickets sing Their breathless song. This is evening prayer To the great Oneness: Here, present, incarnate. Connecting, Reaching out, Paying attention, Belonging, Lamenting and Celebrating It all. - Wendy Janzen Spirit of fullness,
On this Pentecost morning Filled with miracles Of wind, flame and Spirit, Animate us. Enliven us. Transform us. Comfort us, And lead us from our fears And our fears for the world, That we might rise with Hope, Joy, Wonder, And amazement On this expansive New day. Amen. - Wendy Janzen You are a conversation between heaven and earth, soil and sky. A sacred reciprocity living in each cell, and stretching beyond yourself to a world equally alive. You eat, and are eaten. You breathe, and are breathed. You touch, and are touched. You see, and are seen. You bless, and are blessed: Share the sacred gift of your being as you receive the gifts of life. - Wendy Janzen O Great Love, Divine Presence, We rejoice in Our Mother Earth, Who births us, Nurtures us, Sustains us, And collects us Back into her bosom When our life Is done. Forgive us for our Greediness, our Selfishness, our Short-sightedness, our Messiness. For we have made a Mess beyond measure. Let the energy of The sunrise, The mystery of A butterfly, The beauty of Spring flowers, The fragility of Endangered species, The toxicity of Polluted waterways, The barrenness of Scorched earth Bring us to our knees. And there, on Our knees, May we be humbled To see the earth With new eyes. May we be humbled To see ourselves As humus. May we be humbled To recognize we Are but part of a Intricate web of creation, A sacred reciprocity Of belonging. Break open Our hearts To love as you love. Amen. ~ Wendy Janzen Prayer on the last day of October
God of Octobers, We thank you for this month of clear blue skies, of geese flying in formation, of snakes sunning themselves on the path, of squirrels busy collecting nuts. We thank you for the rich palette of colour painted on the forests, for the sounds of crunchy leaves beneath our feet, for abundant apples loading down branches and scattered on the ground, for pumpkin patches, clusters of grapes, frosty mornings, and the culmination of the garden harvest. God, in this holy season of transformation may we be released from the busyness and excesses of life, so that we might learn to simply be present to rest in your presence. Amen. - Wendy Janzen Prayer for the Autumn Equinox
September 23, 2019 As I met with two different forest church groups on Sunday, September 22, my attention kept returning to the wind. It was stronger than a breeze: it made the treetops sway, and sometimes drowned out my voice as I spoke. It was the last day of summer, the day before the autumn equinox, and the temperature was downright hot with a serving of humidity to go with the sunshine. But the wind was not a summer wind. It was the kind of wind one experiences in autumn. It was the wind of change blowing in a new season, new weather patterns. We are, right now, in the middle of a week of climate action. A week when climate change is on the forefront of the news and of our minds. There was a Global Climate Strike last Friday, and another coming this Friday. There is the UN Climate Summit happening in New York. And there are countless smaller events happening all over to highlight the issues that we have for far too long pushed to the back burner. I hope the winds of change are blowing through our towns and cities, and through the halls of power. I pray that these winds of change are bringing with them new patterns of being and a new season of action. The equinox is a liminal space, a threshold between what was and what is yet to come. Liminal spaces are pregnant with possibility. May we have the courage to heed the winds of change. To let go of our unhealthy past, so that we are unburdened to embrace a new future that is not only sustainable for all, but regenerative for so much of what is broken. Here is my prayer for today: God of the seasons, We come to you on this liminal day: The day that marks the balance between light and dark, And the turning from From summer’s fullness to autumn’s surrender. We stand at this threshold, Full to overflowing with the goodness of summer, Ready, yet not ready to let go of what was, And to embrace what lies ahead. As hard as it can be, teach us to surrender. In this age of climate crisis and mass extinction Help us to let go of our dependence on fossil fuels. Help us to let go of our rampant consumerism. Help us to let go of our disposable lifestyle. Help us to let go of our illusions of control. May we surrender to your love for all the earth. May we trust in enough rather than Grasping for more. In our letting go, may we know the freedom Of abundant life. Amen. - Wendy Janzen |
AuthorReflections, poetry, prayers, photos, and resources written by Wendy Janzen unless otherwise noted. Archives
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