Monday, 25 June 2018

An ordinary kind of holy

Lord in your mercy, may I be awake to the life around me

Every breath, a welcoming of that which cannot be contained or defined

The embracing of being here, becoming a prayer in real time

Could we live in each minute with intentional presence,
Considering the mundane to be vessels of holiness for those who choose to see

Everyday moments to be given weight, to be held as precious.
Making space to completely show up in the ordinary,
To bear witness to life that knows no boundaries but will flow, like spilled wine, filling every crack.

Jesus, wrapping ancient truths in stories of seed and fields. Birds and thieves.
Adopting embryo as home, climbing down down down
When last is first and the coin comes from the mouth of the fish
Mundane removes it’s mask and you lock eyes with the ordinary kind of holy.

If God has filled the universe with himself,
Can not every room, every road, every hour be an alter, a scared meeting place?
Would Christ who cooked fish and drank wine, lock holy inside cathedral or clergy?

Every breath, a welcoming of that which cannot be contained or defined

Lord in your mercy, may I be awake to the life around me

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