by Carol Cook Moore
We enter this season of Lent not because of what we know,
but because of what we do not know.
You, Incarnate One, beckon us on this journey.
Ashes leave the stain,
marking each fragile pigment of existence
with the sign of death and the promise of life.
We come not because of what we believe,
but because of what we do not believe.
You take us with you, not because of what we can do,
but because of what you will do in us, through us, and with us.
We are the clay in your hands.
Divine Potter, shape us, mold us, reform us, we pray.
We come not because of what we have,
But because of what we do not have.
We long for peace, we grow weary reaching for justice,
We grow tired eating fear as our daily bread.
Feed us, host of Heaven, with the bread and wine of justice.
Fill us, fountain of Living Water, until we thirst no more.
Mark us, mold us, feed us, fill us, for in receiving you,
we will find the path that leads
through the wilderness to life everlasting.
We pray with earnest hearts,
Permission is granted for use in corporate setting. Copyright © 2012 The Upper Room. Used with permission.
Carol Cook Moore is an ordained Elder in the United Methodist Church and a member of the Oklahoma Annual Conference. She is currently working on a collection of writings on the topic of encountering grace in the midst of grief. In addition to teaching courses in worship, preaching, and designing worship, Carol enjoys gardening, beaching, and preparing family feasts.
"Many of us are used to the idea that we might speak to God or to Jesus. Maybe at times it feels like shouting into the darkness or whatnot, but it’s not hard to do—at least as an imaginative exercise. What’s harder—even imaginatively—is to try to hear Jesus speaking to us. Are we just making things up? Are we just using Jesus as a puppet to say whatever we want to hear?" READ MORE