November 16, 2022
“It’s What First Struck Me upon Seeing the Photo”: A Prayer
O Lord, it’s what first struck upon seeing the photo, an
award-winning wildlife photo, a photo of
a mountain gorilla,
staring into the camera,
his eyes worried somehow,
his hand held to his mouth,
his fingers curled over, resting on
his lower lip,
his appearance
strangely familiar,
and that’s
when it
struck me, and
what struck me was,
he was anxious;
what struck me was,
not even a mountain gorilla
can escape
anxiety;
what struck me was,
whether animal or human,
in today’s world
to be
alive
is to be
anxious;
and what he had
to be anxious about
I cannot say, maybe the
threat of violence (poacher poaching); or the
threat to his habitat (domain
diminishing); or the
threat of extinction (existence
erased);
in other words,
pretty much the same things
that cause us
to be
anxious;
threat of violence (as in schools, on the streets, everywhere);
threat to our habitat (as in environment);
threat of extinction (as in disease taking us
or nuclear war annihilating us);
and more still, like
politics,
the economy,
the children,
all the chaos,
all the changes;
and the list
goes on and on.
To be
alive
is to be
anxious.
And I should know, O Lord, as you well know, well know
how anxious I get;
world-class worrier,
angst always accompanying,
nervous, uneasy, apprehensive,
racing heart, rapid breathing, rising BP,
that’s me,
especially now,
today,
waiting for a call,
waiting for someone to interpret my PET scan,
results I’ve seen but
not sure what they mean, so
waiting,
pretending
not to be anxious (Hey, it’s only life or
death we’re talking about, so what’s
the big deal?);
trying
not to worry,
because I know what I’ll do,
because it’s what I always do,
always get preoccupied with it,
make the worry bigger,
more powerful,
becoming
intense, excessive, persistent; and so
hello panic attack,
hello huffing and puffing,
hello fear as in big-time fear;
that’s why
gorilla buddy
from Kenya
looked so familiar,
because
I saw myself
in him,
not that different, anxiety
the bond
between us.
But the thing is, O Lord, anxiety doesn’t do anything, except
increase anxiety;
it solves nothing,
it changes nothing,
it accomplishes nothing (well, it does
make life miserable);
and I know this,
but still…
but still;
really all
I can do
is do
what I’ve
always done,
trust in you,
trust in others,
trust that
somehow all shall be well;
have faith enough
to commend
to your grace and mercy
those I love, those I can’t stand, this nation, this world,
and myself;
but the thing is,
it’s getting harder and harder today
to trust;
trust lacking,
trust lost,
trust long gone;
hard to know
who or what
to trust;
Politicians? (Oh, please); Government? (Oh, right); Church? (Oh, really?);
Social Media? (Hang on till I stop laughing); News Media?
(You’re killing me); Healthcare? (It’s called the practice
of medicine for a reason); Friends? (I hope so,
just don’t talk politics); You, O Lord?
(I wouldn’t exactly say that all is well
right now); Ourselves? (Ah, our
true god who will truly
fail us);
and yet
trust
is the only answer
I know.
And that is my prayer, Lord, that
you would increase our
trust in you, so that we
trust ourselves to you,
trust those we love, those we don’t,
trust this nation, this world, even
trust our worries and fears and anxieties
to you,
so that we can live strong and brave and glad,
anxious no longer,
well, not quite as anxious (You know me, Lord).
And we pray, O Lord, that you would ease the anxiety and
fear and panic of those who are ill, those who are suffering,
those who are dying, those who are grieving, those
who are struggling with financial hardship, and
those who are hungry, those who are homeless;
grace them with
the faith and hope
in your love
that will
see them through.
O Lord, I’ve got a new friend, a big gorilla of a guy, and we talk,
talk about what we both know to be
the truth of life today,
that to be
alive
is to be
anxious;
and talk about
another truth,
the truth that
anxiety’s answer
is you;
I just hope that at
some deep level
he understands,
that we all of us do.
Amen.