O God of new beginnings,
whose hand brings both the dripping rain
and the warming afternoon sun,
by which You call forth new life:
bluebirds nesting,
peonies sprouting,
daffodils blooming;
we thank you for the hopeful promise of spring.
With the awakening of our blood after winter lethargy,
it seems that suddenly every moment is filled.
And yet, O God of peace and rest,
You are also a God of work and play.
As we cultivate gardens and fill our fingernails with dirt and hope,
laying down seeds as prayers for the future,
as our children run out the door to baseball
stay extra hours for recital practice
bend their heads to finishing studies well
invite friends over to play
or toddle beside us with eager chubby hands,
cultivate in our hearts, O Master Gardener,
seeds of hope and promise;
dig out weeds and rotting roots,
those impulses to self and sin,
and sow that which will grow towards the Light
in beauty by Your hand.
Remind us that full schedules are not bad,
but likewise are not all, nor any measure of success.
Hold space for us, Patient Father,
to lay our heads down on Your shoulder
in joy and sorrow,
in weariness and delight;
and thus help us to hold such space
for our children and friends.
Grow in us the patience of trust,
patience to wait for a bud to open in its time,
to allow Your hand to work as You will
in the soil of our hearts
in the unhurried and perfect timing of Your holy measuring,
to extend such generous patience
to those we encounter,
even days on which we have no margin for kindness or grace
apart from Your Spirit in us.
Grant us, then, Patient Jesus,
the faith to trust that some things are more important
than being on time,
and the wisdom to know when to pause and pay attention.
Open our ears to hear Your voice, Holy Spirit.
Open our mouths to cheer for our children,
to show them beyond doubt that they are loved,
extravagantly and delightedly—as You teach us to love.
Open our hands to share
our seats
our attention
our orange slices
our delight in Your good and beautiful world.
May we not be ruled by our calendars
so much as by our attention to what You have called us to do.
Let us be faithful to the work before us,
and let us find delight in it.
Featured image by gpointstudio.
Millie is a former writing tutor who now spends most of her time driving to soccer practice or folding laundry, but can also be found kneading dough in the kitchen or reading in a corner.
Originally from South Carolina, she lives in Corvallis, Oregon with her husband and two kids, and occasionally writes for The Rabbit Room. She can be found at instagram.com/millie.sweeny.
Originally from South Carolina, she lives in Corvallis, Oregon with her husband and two kids, and occasionally writes for The Rabbit Room. She can be found at instagram.com/millie.sweeny.
Latest posts by Millie Sweeny (see all)
- The Mountain of God - October 2, 2023
- Review: God, You Are - September 4, 2023
- A Liturgy for When the House Feels Too Full of Children - August 16, 2023
Beautiful, Millie! So full of hope and spring beauty. Thank you!