Category Archives: Blessings

Blessed Books

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Blessed Books

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for books of all shapes and sizes.
My Bible concordance weighs 4.6 pounds,
a giant next to the tiny hardcover
book of proper etiquette, 2.2 ounces.

Blessed are You for books—strangers,
who may become friends as I turn the pages,
or allies, or acquaintances,
or enemies who confine me,
mentors who challenge me,
or therapists who help me find myself.
Books have saved me, expanded me, held me.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for the pleasure of reading in bed
with a comforter and pillows
and a cat curled at my feet;
for the companionship
of books that fit in purses or pockets
and travel with me on an airplane,
or to a chair in the back yard.
Each is a gift in some way:
friendship, adventure, humor, mystery, wit and wisdom;
and every story is a sacred portrait of those made in Your image.

We Woke Up

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It’s not (technically) spring yet,
but the first warm days arrived this weekend,
and northerners weary with winter
woke up.

We trimmed shrubs and pulled weeds,
started lawn mowers and plunged trowels into the warming earth.
We went to parks all over town
with our kids and dogs and blankets and guitars,
and we sang and walked and let the sun massage vitamin D and peace into our faces.
We picked daffodils,
chose outdoor seating at coffee shops,
and skipped church.
Even the odd ones who don’t care for sunshine came stiffly out,
and antique cars shook off dust for the first drive of the year.

Love is in the air—turkeys strutting, people kissing, dogs sniffing, squirrels flirting.
The earth is pulsing alive and we feel the anticipation—
joy radiates from crocus blossoms and forsythia.
Hope again surprises us with its quiet turn from black-and-white to color—
paintbrush poised to anoint fields and forests and gardens with life.

As we bask in today
we take a collective deep breath; we’re okay.
The sun and soil are alive; all will be well.

Holy Parents

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This morning the third- and fourth-grade class at Milton-Stateline Adventist School tried something new. We wrote a blessing together. They chose the topic and all the adjectives and I was the scribe. I hope you enjoy their poem!

Holy Parents

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for parents—
courageous but strict,
funny but embarrassing,
sweet but grumpy,
loving but self-absorbed,
fun but assigners of chores.

Blessed are You for these
hardworking, graceful, responsible,
generous, smart, sarcastic,
handsome and beautiful,
yelling, fighting, forgetting
parents.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for being our Daddy God,
and for our parents
who remind us of You—
giving us hugs when we need them,
helping us when we’re sad or scared,
giving us courage to learn new things.

Spiritual Hair

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Spiritual Hair

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for hair—
a rainbow of textures,
a wisp or a thicket,
growing on heads
and peeking from armpits
and ears and noses.

Blessed are You for hair,
proof that You make stuff for fun—
red, brown, black, blonde, white,
ideal for play—
ponytail it, spike it, color it, braid it,
grow it, dreadlock it, cut it, gel it,
clip it, curl it, shave it, twirl it.

Blessed are You
for hair that needs care—
these strands on my head must be tended,
a combination of work and play,
same as the strands of my spirit,
woven for beauty,
made to be silly and serious,
often in need of untangling,
but beautiful in the wild,
salty-beach-air-jumbled moments.

Holy What?

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Holy What?

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe:
flame—do You warm cold bodies
or burn “wrong” people?
wind—do You play with our hair
or destroy our homes?
rock—do You stand firm beneath us
or avalanche upon us?

Blessed are You
beyond understanding
yet close as my skin,
a mystery, infinite, expanding,
yet fully present in the nose on my face.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe:
light, but creator of night,
the kind of wild that is safe for a child,
loving fire, burning desire,
bread and oil, seed and soil,
lawmaker and lawbreaker,
water-fountain of life.
I wonder about all this
(God isn’t supposed to be chaotic),
wonder if I should be worried,
until I remember we are holding hands,
fingers laced together,
and You don’t mind
if I close my eyes
for the scary parts.

Cousins

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Cousins

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for cousins—
like siblings
but without the drama,
similar to me in ways that are comfortable,
and familiar with the foibles
of the adults in my life.

Blessed are You
for sleepovers and Mad Libs,
tea parties and birthday parties,
visits to city parks and county fairs,
and standing in the concession line
at the pool, dripping wet,
to buy popsicles and pretzels.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for older cousins who take
the burden of all the “firsts,”
and younger cousins who put up with
the older ones bossing them around.
You knew we’d need friends
who were actually relatives
but not our immediate family,
so You made cousins.

Beach Body

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Beach Body

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for bodies all over this beach,
like a bowl of mixed nuts
tossed in saltwater
and spread on the sand to dry.
How I am tempted to sort them
by shape and size and color.

Blessed are You for the confidence of jiggling white cheeks, divided by a teal thong,
for laissez-faire, leathered breasts who’ve seen more sun than most faces,
for awkward couples not sure how much of one another’s bare skin to touch,
and couples who’ve been walking barefoot in the foamy tide since before I was born.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for every brave body,
here for sun and water and sand—
but also to be seen,
to remind me that every body is a “beach body.”
To paraphrase Jesus,
“The beach was made for bodies,
and not bodies for the beach.”
Every salty nut belongs.

Aunties

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Aunties

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for my aunts,
who believe the best of me.
I still find it odd
that anyone thinks I’m smart
or capable, or decent,
but my aunts do
and for some reason
I trust them.

Blessed are you, aunties,
for unwavering kindness,
generous gift-giving,
craft supplies and gourmet meals,
giggles and connection,
honesty and creativity.
I never felt you had to invest in me
because I’m your niece.
I knew you wanted to.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for the believing and belonging,
the handwritten cards and letters,
funny family stories,
warm welcomes, and celebrations.
You knew it would be hard for me to learn
that the best thing I can be is me,
so You created aunties.
Brave, they are, to be themselves,
and in so doing, to invite me to be myself.

Here and There I Am

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Here and There I Am

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for anticipation—
groom in shiny, toe-pinching shoes,
watching the sanctuary doorway.
Bread in the oven,
first crocus about to bloom,
waiting for grandma’s visit.

Blessed are You for memories—
wreaths on the necks of brown cows in Switzerland,
playing an evening game of soccer in Belize,
lighting bugs in Oklahoma,
backpacking through snow to natural hot springs,
holding purple shore crabs by Oregon tide pools.

Blessed are You for creating me to enjoy—
memories of the past,
scenery and scent of the present,
and the possibility of my future.
Your eternal nature allows me the pleasure
of what is already done,
what is now,
and what is yet to be,
for You are not contained in one reality,
and as Your child, neither am I.

White Gift

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White Gift

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe,
for snow, brides,
egrets, rice.
White is bright,
reflecting light—
clouds,
the insides of radishes and potatoes,
coconut shreds,
vanilla ice cream.

Blessed are You for rabbits
who keep a white coat
without bleach or washing machine,
despite no hands to hold their juicy vegetables.
Me, I can’t keep a blouse white,
but kittens wear white boots
and gulls wear white all down their front,
and they make it look easy.

Blessed are You,
Lord our God,
King of the Universe—
though my stains are scarlet
they will be white as snow.
Though my wrongs are crimson
they’ll resemble finest wool.
White is not for me to toil over
but for You to give.