Monday Morning Offering - 72

Coffee in the Morning by George Mendoza

Good morning, gracious God...

November wraps its dampened shroud
‘round nature’s shoulders hunched,
our souls know well the chill
of summer’s passing, winter soon draws near...

Bare limbs scratch against gray skies,
and snatch a mourner’s veil
from hearts laid bare in shivering loss,
alone, exposed in grief…

November, Lord: no other month
could better claim the name All Souls
or set the scene for praying, weeping,
rememb'ring those before us gone
and marked with signs of faith…

So this November morning, Lord,
I offer my beloved: created from your hand,
claimed by grace and carried
in the everlasting arms of your embrace…

I offer you from my heart's depths
the ones I struggle to let go…

I offer you a prayer of tears
for those whose absence fills my silent hours…

I offer from my hands to yours
the ones whose hands held mine
- until you drew them from my grasp…

I offer from my selfish heart
the ones I bruised and hurt:
I pray you heal the wounds I caused,
and for your mercy beg…

I offer you a prayer, O Lord,
for those with none to pray for them:
brothers, sisters never met;
sisters, brothers mine,
for all are one in you...

I offer you my grief, O Lord,
refresh me in your tender care;
make deep my faith I'll see again
the ones I've lost to death, when
gathered in your kingdom's joy
your mercy makes us one...

Beneath November’s canopy
walk others, Lord, who know as well as I
the depths of this month’s memories
and All the Souls for whom we pray:
keep us gentle with each other, Lord,
and mindful of what binds us in your love…

Accept my mourning offering, Lord,
on this November day
and through the night until it dies
and wakes again, a new day born,
the day that you have made...

Amen.