Now I remember what I had learned, that you look on me with compassion, not just for the great crises but in the ordinary awkwardness of life. Life, this intricate gift of yours that I often get wrong, pursue a momentary comfort or distraction rather than embrace and ask for your grace in this day, these circumstances you've given.
Forgive me when I doubt that prayer works when I look at life and see so much you haven't fixed yet, as if fixing was all you do. Remind me of those moments when I've known the peace of your presence standing with me in the unfixed mess; when I've said "I don't know why I should feel OK in this, because its so obviously not OK, but you're here with me, and the OKness of your presence is greater than the nonOKness of this circumstance.
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