Читать книгу Fire in the Soul - Richard L. Morgan - Страница 13

AT RETIREMENT

You love me, eternal God, when I leave the world of work and lose the identity I acquired through years of labor. Keep me sensitive to your will for me now. Remind me of Abraham and Sarah, Anna and Simeon, to whom your call came later in life. Give me grace to enjoy my new freedom, to cherish my leisure time, and to care for others. Above all, help me not to rush about, or rust out, but to rest in you. Amen.

FOR COURAGE AND GRATITUDE

Lord God of Israel, how much I admire Caleb. At eighty-five he was not content to settle down to an easy life in Canaan or to be put out to pasture, but was ready to fight for the land promised him. I need his spirit in these early days of retirement, when all I think about are my entitlements and benefits. Help me to realize that even as I accept these gifts I have earned, I owe much to your grace, which is unearned. Amen.

FOR DISCERNMENT

Grant me, O Lord, to know what is worth knowing,

to love what is worth loving,

to praise what delights you most,

to value what is precious in your sight,

to hate what is offensive to you.

Do not let me judge by what I see,

nor pass sentence according to what I hear,

but to judge rightly between things that differ,

and above all to search out and to do what pleases you, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

—Thomas à Kempis, 1380–1471

THOSE EARLY DAYS

Surprising God, I need my second wind in these retirement years. Athletes seem to get it when they have spent themselves. After expending all their energies, just when it seems they have run out of gas, they get that new burst of energy. Well, Lord, I admit I am worn out. The years have taken their toll. I need to press on for your high calling in these retirement years, but I need that second wind of your spirit to carry me beyond my fatigue. Amen.

THERE IS STILL WONDER

Ancient of Days, even this new freedom is too short for me to appreciate all the wonders of your world. I now have more time for reflection and contemplation. Grant me a holy curiosity about life. Help me never to feel that life is over and all that is left is a rocking chair on the porch. Give me grace to explore new scenes, revisit old memories. Show me each day the miracle of the moment, and direct my footsteps to quiet libraries, still waters, and the laughter of children. Amen.

WHEN THE HONEYMOON ENDS

Dear Lord, the first exciting days of retirement are gone, and now the reality has hit home. It was nice to do nothing for awhile. It felt like playing hooky from school. I laughed when they handcuffed me at my retirement party and gave me the keys. What doors do they open? Or do they keep me locked to the past? I know my life is not over. But the honeymoon has ended. I long to know what is next in this puzzling journey. Help me to trust when I cannot see. Amen.

AMPLIUS

(A Poem That Becomes a Prayer)

I must make my way to the mountains, and find a path to the sea,

let the far and silent places become a part of me,

for my world has grown so small, that there is no room at all

for my spirit twisting, turning to be free.

I must dwell awhile in the desert or walk beside a lake,

for something asleep within me is trying to come awake,

and my life has dwindled down to a single, little town

and my spirit is twisting, turning to be free.

I will go beyond horizon, trace a western star,

rest my eyes on a prairie reaching wide and far.

For this journey, I have no guide save what seems inside, where

my spirit is twisting, turning to be free.

I may come once more to freedom in this same familiar street,

break out of the bondage if I really meet

those who, knowing me, have eyes with which to see,

my spirit twisting, turning to be free.

—John David Burton

WHEN TIME STANDS STILL

Gracious God, for many weeks it was nice to wake up in the morning, laugh at the alarm clock, and set my own schedule. I had a leisurely breakfast, watched the birds at my feeder, and was just plain lazy. The day was like that. And at evening I sat on the deck and watched the sunset until the stars appeared. It was great. But now, months later, every day seems the same. I’m by myself a lot, and have simply run out of things to do. I’ve rearranged my scrapbooks, watched old reruns, and played with my computer. God, I’m tired of this free time. I had hoped that retirement would be different—exciting new adventures, travel. I guess I read too many ads in retirement magazines that promised the moon. Now reality has set in. I know I shouldn’t complain, but I can tell you how I feel. I promise not to whine or recline, but I need to do a lot of work on myself so I can hear your voice calling me to new directions. Amen.

BUSYNESS

God My Help Now, it seems so incongruous that I feel more rushed and pulled in different directions than I ever did before I retired. At times it feels good to be busy, when I swing into action and check off my daily “to do”list. I pride myself that I am not really retired. And yet being busy is not what you want for me. I need time to reflect, to be with you, to be with myself, to be with others. When my calendar is so clocked full of activities, I get out of whack. Teach me to be active, but not busy. Help me to balance quiet with service. May these years find me growing in grace, not just doing more things. Amen.

A BUSY, FRANTIC LIFE

How is it, my God, that you have given me this hectic, busy life when I have so little time to enjoy your presence? Throughout the day people are waiting to speak with me, and even at meals I have to continue talking to people about their needs and problems. During sleep itself I am still thinking and dreaming about the multitude of concerns that surround me. I do all this not for own sake, but for yours. To me my present pattern of life is a torment; I only hope that for you it is truly a sacrifice of love. I know that you are constantly beside me, yet I am usually so busy that I ignore you. If you want me to remain so busy, please force me to think about and love you even in the midst of such hectic activity. If you do not want me so busy, please release me from it, showing how others can take over my responsibilities.

—Teresa of Avila, 1515–82

A PRAYER FOR KAIROS TIME

It has been a difficult time, bountiful God, since the first exciting days of retirement ended. At first I went around as if in a daze, so thankful for this new time for myself. Now I feel marooned in a barren wilderness, with no clue as to where I go from here. Time seems to drag on, even more so than when I was working. I am so accustomed to clock time, with neatly lined blocks of my carefully pocketed day-timer, that I don’t know how to handle this change. So I wait for your kairos time, when all these jagged pieces will fall into place and I will see clearly your will for me in this new time of my life. As you sent Jesus in the fullness of kairos time, help me to find my kairos time as well. Amen.

EVERYONE’S PRAYER

I lift up my heart, O God, for all who are the prey of anxious fears, who cannot get their minds off themselves and for whom every demand made on them fills them with foreboding, and with the feeling they cannot cope with what is required of them.

Give them the comfort of knowing that this feeling is illness, not cowardice; that millions have felt as they feel, that there is a way through this dark valley, and light at the end of it.

Lead them to those who can help them and understand them and show them the pathway to health and happiness. Comfort and sustain them by the loving presence of the Saviour who knows and understands all our woe and fear, and give them enough courage to face each day, and rest their minds in the thought that thou wilt see them through.

—Charles Wesley, 1707–88

SPINNING TOPS

How strange—

we are all so ardent in our piety

so careful not to slip up

so intent on making our individual lives

count in the scheme of things

tyrannized by overful diaries

driven by the echo of our ‘well done.’

And where does it all lead?

Spinning round like tops

we spiral down before

You in now grubby, tattered clothes

Out of breath.

Deal gently with us, Lord.

—Kathy Keay

THE TOUCH OF THE MASTER’S HAND

O Master, we are like an old violin. We used to play a great tune, but now we seem old and frail, marred by life. At times we feel useless, of little worth anymore because we are out of the limelight and forced to play cameo roles. But the music is still there!

O Master, take the strings of our lives and make them vibrate once more. Some may want to discard us as old concertos, but your touch can resurrect our music. Some may want to relegate us to the museum of life, but your touch can send new music from the strings of our hearts. Amen.

A PRAYER FROM THE AIR

Lord of heavens, my one true pilot, sitting here in this airplane as we descend to the ground reminds of me these retirement years. The power has been cut, the pitch of the droning engines has changed, and the nose dips, and I know that the flight will soon end. There has come a definitive moment, a feeling signaling that the rush of life has ended, and I am moving into the final phase of my existence. As in the case of the plane’s descent, nothing has really changed but things have begun to wind down around me. I am clearing out some of the clutter in my life, thinning out some activities and beginning to take seriously the mystery of death and dying. So, even as the psalmist prayed, “If I take the wings of the morning, and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me and your right hand shall hold me fast”(Ps. 139:9-10). I put my trust in your hands, knowing you will guide me home. Amen.

AT NIGHT

O Lord God, who has given us the night for rest, I pray that in my sleep my soul may remain awake to you, steadfastly adhering to your love. As I lay aside my cares to relax and relieve my mind, may I not forget your infinite and unresting care for me. And in this way, let my conscience be at peace, that when I rise tomorrow, I am refreshed in body, mind and soul.

—John Calvin,1509–64

FOR EXTENDED LIFE

Loving Creator, medical science has indeed extended our years and we are grateful, yet we wonder what this means. We know that being seventy or eighty is nothing strange in these days, but just another stage of life with its opportunities and possibilities. We need to approach these bonus years with endless gratitude for this gift of more time to live. Even when these years bring inevitable loss and decline, grant us grace to bear these years with courage and hope. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

NOT JUST A LONGER LIFE

Lord, despite our extended years, as we enter a new century with even greater possibilities of reaching 120 years of age, there is a lurking, haunting fear that length of days cannot satisfy the hunger of our souls. We have the means to live longer, but do we have any meaning to live for? Will we fulfill the words of the writer, “Remember your creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come, and the years draw near when you will say, ‘I have no pleasure in them’ ”(Eccles. 12:1)? Will these extended years bring sadness and suffering, regret and ruin? Or will we live fully to the end of our days, lost in wonder, love, and praise? Amen.

GOD OF SURPRISES

God of surprises, when I think that being old is a drag on my life, you surprise me in the love of family and friends who nurture me by their attention. God of surprises, just when I am ready to believe I am useless and of little worth anymore, the mailman brings a good word, the telephone rings and someone wants me to help. God of surprises you are ever with us, just as you surprised those two on the Emmaus road, who thought you were a stranger. As our days go by and our strength weakens, keep surprising us. When our patience fails and life seems dull, keep surprising us . . . until that day when we leave this world and receive the greatest surprise of all! Amen.

GOD CALLS AGAIN

Dear Lord, it seems that all through life you keep asking us to listen for your call, and now as we put down one call, we pick up another. We thank you for the “call”that comes in the later years, as surely as you called Abraham at age seventy-five. It is a call to new beginnings, a seemingly endless journey of faith. Help us to reinvent who we are and what we are to do as ongoing servants of the God who is always calling us. We know that when we retire we feel disconnected from the power and status of our working life. We also miss our work companions. Now they are gone with only lingering memories. Help us not to waste our time, but to fill it as we enjoy you, our neighbors, and the world around us. Help us ever to “press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus”(Phil. 3:14). Amen.

PRAYER OF A SAINT

Teach us, good Lord,

to serve you as you deserve;

to give and not to count the cost;

to fight and not to heed the wounds;

to toil and not to seek for rest;

to labor and not to ask for any reward,

except that of knowing that we do your will;

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

—Saint Ignatius of Loyola, 1491-1556

TEN YEARS LATER

Lord, it is ten years since I “retired”and faced this unknown journey with much fear and trembling. I know my friends told me that retirement is when work no longer interferes with life, but I scarcely believed that. Now, I do. It has been ten good years of new directions, renewed energy, and exciting adventures. I really do have the new freedom to be who I am and not what the work role demands. I have the joy of finding ways to serve others and repay my debt to the world. And most of all I am myself . . . at last! Amen.

NEW BEGINNINGS

This time of retirement can be a new beginning, O Lord of the Journey. On the first day of time you began your mighty act of creation by calling life out of nothing. On the first day of the week you called Jesus from the tomb and the world began again. This is the first day of the rest of my life. Help me to live as one for whom life is not ending, like a door slammed in my face; but as one for whom life is beginning, as a door opening before me. Give me grace to forget what is behind and to press on to what lies ahead. Amen.

THE PEACE ONLY YOU GIVE

You are not found, O mysterious God, in the shattering noise of the earthquake, or in the raging fire, or in the blustery winds of nature, but in the still, small voice. Why am I so preoccupied with being busy? I confess I am still a slave to the work ethic, each day measured by what I do. But I am saved by grace, not by works. I am liberated from clocks and calendars, with precious time for my soul. But I still want to be in the thick of things, and so I fail to find your presence in the thickets of life. All you really ask is that I be someone. Help me in these autumn days to find that creative balance between vital involvement and quiet rest. May Christ say to me, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”(Matt. 11:28, KJV). Amen.