Blessed are You,

Lord our God,

King of the Universe,

for the at-home kind of love,

hugs before the day begins

when we’re in t-shirts and underwear,

apologies after thoughtless words,

an offer of help in the kitchen,

laughter following a clumsy spill.

Blessed are You

for quiet nights

and interrupted, tenuous nights

when we find our impatience and compassion

all mixed up together.

Blessed are You,

Lord our God,

King of the Universe,

for clothes everywhere

because we are too alive to be tidy,

for the one who remembers to say

“It’s okay to have a bad day,”

for the carpets and couches and pillows and beds,

safe places to land,

not unlike the people who live here.