Prayer Poem

The other day a glass measuring cup dropped and shattered into a thousand pieces.
Carefully I sought to pick up the shiny slivers.
Starting first with the biggest until all that was left were the tiny ones that blended into the floor,
Visible only when the light caught them just so.

The broken moments of life can cut like sharp shards of glass.
Some moments are easily seen, visible, and well known.
Words someone said...the bad reports.
The hurts and harms that have our fingerprints all over them
because we are continually handling them.
Relationships erupted ended.
Physical, emotional, spiritual, and mental pain we have faced.
Jealousy that that person got that...
Coat,
Promotion,
Prestige,
Privilege,
Power.

What is politics and our current culture than an exercise in unprocessed pain?
Racism,
Sexism,
Blame,
Money,
Jobs,
Those people who are not like us?

We don't have to have been in Joseph's family to know the truth of this story.
We have our own experiences and encounters that teach and tell us this story in a different key.
In the small spaces of this story, we find our story.
In the small spaces of this story, we find a deeper truth from which we may want to shield our eyes.

We have been taught to measure our lives by
Success;
Stories where we win;
Shining moments.

Perhaps all we have been told is as broken as that cup on my kitchen floor and we are now just trying to pick up the pieces.

Help us, O God.
Stoop down with us, O God.
Remind us to be careful and mindful, O God.
Mend and superglue the brokenness, O God, with Your love.
For the fragility of life is the shattered measuring cups of lives.

Amen.