You preside over all our comings and goings,
all our wealth and all our poverty, all our sickness and all our health, all our despair and all our hope, all our living and all our dying.
And we are grateful.
You are God of all of our impossibilities.
You have presided over the emancipations and healings of our mothers and fathers;
you have presided over the wondrous transformations in our own lives.
you have and will preside over those parts of our lives that we imagine to be closed.
And we are grateful.
So be your true self, enacting the things impossible for us, that we might yet be whole among the blind who see and
the dead who are raised; that we may yet witness your will for peace,
your vision for justice,
your vetoing all our killing fields.
—Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth: Prayers of Walter Brueggemann, p. 173
