May 18, 2022
“Just When It Started to Go So Well”: A Prayer
O Lord, just when it started to go so well
it started to go to,
well,
not well,
not well at all.
Writing out my plans
on the bedroom ceiling in the night,
when I’ll attend a graduation,
when I’ll do a ZOOM call and say hello,
when I’ll do a video sermon on the big screen,
when I’ll start chemotherapy,
when I’ll be back in the pulpit again;
how I love things
all planned out,
nailed down,
set in place,
and there they were
on the bedroom ceiling in the night
until erased by the morning light;
even
picturing myself,
imagining myself,
seeing myself
on the bedroom ceiling in the night,
doing those things,
doing well,
again;
but then,
not doing well,
something going wrong,
one step forward,
two steps back,
until
no step forward,
no steps back,
no steps at all
because
no oxygen,
no breath;
words on the ceiling becoming blurred,
plans out of focus,
images murky;
worried, worried about her,
how much more can she take,
both thinking the same thing,
can’t go on,
not like this;
picking up pen
only to set it
down again,
no scrawls scrawled,
no scribblings scribbled,
no scratchings scratched,
no words written,
no prayer prayed,
something really wrong;
hospital;
again;
but single room
(Thank you, Lord),
my own ceiling,
no TV grating,
only cart click-clicking down the hallway;
congestive heart failure
(When it rains, it pours);
Lasix working,
oxygen climbing,
breathing better,
plans returning, images returning, confidence returning,
appetite returning, hope returning,
all there on the hospital ceiling in the night,
until erased by the morning light;
ceiling even having
a suggestion or two of its own –
about how to get strong, who might walk with me;
resolute again,
picking up pen,
not set down again,
until
scrawled out, scribbled out, scratched out this prayer.
And Lord, I pray this prayer for all who have stared at
bedroom ceilings in the night,
hospital ceilings too,
who have felt well and then
not well,
everything going wrong,
who have wondered
which way is it
going to go,
whatever “it” may be;
who have felt
confidence slip away
and that maybe it’s
time to call it a day;
and what I pray is that you
grace us all with
images of hope
that do not fade;
help us all to
picture ourselves
facing whatever comes
with strength and determination;
give us all
a resolute spirit
that sees us through all things, does not give way to despair,
perseveres no matter what.
And we pray, Lord, for the people of the Ukraine and for
all war-torn, war-weary lands.
Grant them a
fierce resolution
to stand against
horrific evil and senseless killing and to
emerge victorious and free.
Do not let the nations
stand idly by,
but unite
to supply and sustain
all those struggling to survive and the refugees seeking safety.
And, Lord, for those who are ill, we pray,
those who are suffering and hurting,
those who are dying,
those who are grieving,
those who are struggling financially,
and the hungry and homeless and lost.
Heal, comfort, be with, console, and uphold them!
Move us
to open our hearts
to them.
O Lord, as this night closes in and sleep eludes
and I wonder what is to come, let me
write across the ceiling
the dates I shall keep,
the promises I shall honor,
the plans I shall follow;
and let me,
like on a movie screen,
see myself move across the ceiling
doing well,
breathing well,
taking chemo well,
enjoying family,
laughing with friends,
standing in the pulpit,
home.
And I pray that you would grant to all for whom
sleep eludes
such visions,
such images,
such hope.
Amen.