A Prayer

Why the struggle lord? Why the pain? Why must our every liberation be stained with blood? And is the blood mine or someone else’s? It seems to me that they often mingle together in the rough and tumble of the path towards righteousness. We wound as we are wounded. Are we moving closer to the Goal?

In the midst of a world secured in a clarity that alludes me, I ask for patience more than power and peace more than prosperity. I ask for wisdom over riches and love over being right.

And to the one who offered absolution, not from the throne of power, but from the wood of the cross, may your undeserved and immeasurable compassion be found by all who are laden with the weight of the darker side of life…those who stumble and can’t ever seem to find their gait. May the wounded Head of our Race be found to be the Source of our life.

O sacred head now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down, may we know the sound of your voice, that voice that spoke not simply to us and for us, but also in us, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

- Chris




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