First Sunday of Retirement

Beloved One, this letting go, sitting back, putting my feet up thing is harder than I anticipated. What was I expecting? Do I not remember who I am or where I come from?

Remind me again that I have already placed in your loving heart and capable hands the dear ones for whom I most recently cared. Hold them, reassure them, equip and empower them to continue to be the People of God you anointed long ago. Steer them into wise choices, prompt them into daring possibilities, infiltrate their sleep with provocative dreams, accompany them into the new land that lies ahead.

Help me rest in the shelter of your wings, the comfort of a porch swing, the consuming adventures lurking in the pages of books, the soul-salving power of song. Massage my spirit with your loving grace, until I again pulse with your peace, walk in your hope, live from your love.

What will you do with me in the great unknown of unexplored territory that lies ahead?

Releasing my aspirations to save the world, help me to simply love it. Remove cataracts and help me see around floaters, that I might recognize you in the faces of all your children and the magnificent, minuscule wonders of planet earth. Bridge the gaps in my hearing and set my ears to tingling that I might hear you in the sounds of silence, the voice of my partner, the call of my neighbor, the anguished cry of creation. When the time is right, give me a hand to hold, a heart to love, a life to accompany.

Together, may we set a table and receive the guests of your choosing. Be present among us as we break bread and raise a cup, swap stories, share dreams, conspire together to heal the world.

Keep me ever mindful of the gift of this time, the luxury of a clean calendar, the privilege of resources enough to step away and sit down. May I drink deeply of its riches, share freely from its produce.

Receive my heart’s prayer, offered in the name and for the sake of Love. Amen.