A prayer in January

God, I am grateful. Let me first start with that. I should start every day in such a spirit and often forget to. I am grateful, God, for all the things you give me; most importantly my ability to be thankful and count even the hard things a blessing. I know changing forecasts can lead to rain, and that rain will water the flowers and help them grow producing the flirtatious spring and lusty summer. I am grateful that sometimes I am not able to see the goodness you are manifesting beyond the bad weather. I am grateful in the moments when I can trust that you have given me more than I need. 

I see you everywhere. In the white handkerchiefs of clouds and the wings of small birds clustering on telephone wires; in the familiar floorboards of my bedroom smothered in yellow sunlight; in the touch of that young girl’s hand on the elbow of the man who was blind and crossing the street at 44th and Broadway; in the gaze of friends and the arms of my family. I see you in the intertwining promise of the Brooklyn Botanical’s rose garden still sleeping in January, snow dusting the thorny stalks bare of their petals while they sleep for the winter.

Please, if you have a moment, take special care of the mother I met today who left her son behind for school. Ease her worried heart, give her grace to face the loneliness that comes from change. While you are at it pass a little on to me too, if you have any to spare. I could use some grace as I face my own loneliness. What a cold wind blows this way and how improperly clothed I am to face this storm. Help keep me warm against the shivering of my new choices. Perhaps even help generate heat in my heart so that it may, in time, thaw and renew again stronger and more robustly.

I am gentle and full of readiness for whatever comes next. I can be patient. I can feel the longing to bloom and know spring is coming. I can recognize the blood hum and let it strengthen. I can wait.

Amen.

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