August 4, 2021
“Will We Ever Feel Comfortable Again?” A Prayer
O Lord, the other day
I heard someone say,
“I’m just not comfortable yet”
when talking about
taking a new job,
moving into a new house,
starting a new routine;
and
it struck me,
the word
comfortable
struck me,
spoke to me,
set me wondering,
wondering:
Will we ever feel comfortable again?
Not talking
new job or
new house or
new routine,
but
going to the mall
(What was that pop-pop-pop sound – gunfire?);
going to Costco or Wal-Mart or Publix
(How many in here are vaccinated?);
going out to eat
(Tables too close maybe?);
going on a flight
(Are we on a fight flight or
a no-fight flight?);
going anywhere
(Is anywhere safe anymore?);
Talking about
feeling comfortable
in the sense of
feeling safe;
talking about
not having to
keep looking over my shoulder
when I take a grandchild out;
not having to
worry about drivers on the interstate
happy to blow someone away;
not having to
watch every word
in every conversation,
landmines everywhere,
explosive
topics,
racial attitudes,
political opinions;
talking about
vicious violence,
virus variants,
varying vaccination views,
viral voices voicing virulence,
values vacated;
talking about
being scared,
so much
anger and
resentment and
fear
out there;
talking about
peace,
no peace,
no peace down deep inside.
And so
wondering:
Will we ever feel comfortable again?
And yes, Lord, I know, I know, I know:
it could just be me, my
frayed faith,
timid trust,
balking belief;
and yes,
I know, I know, I know:
you didn’t give Jesus the job
of making us feel
comfortable,
but
confronting us,
challenging us,
calling us
to follow his way,
changing us,
creating within us
new hearts and minds;
and yes,
I know, I know, I know:
that often means being
uncomfortable
with
the way things are,
the way people are,
the way we are,
and working to
change things,
call people to your way,
confront ourselves, challenge ourselves to be the new
creations Christ created us
to be.
I get it.
But still, Lord, you know what I’m really asking
because
we have talked about it again and again,
talked about:
Will I ever feel comfortable again before I die?
Talked about:
having some
peace of mind
when I die, the
peace
that hope gives,
hope for this nation of ours,
hope for our children and grandchildren,
hope that they will know a
kinder, saner, calmer,
more gracious,
more just
land.
Talked about:
if peace of mind isn’t possible, then at the very least
you would make sure
that, as I lay dying,
the last voice I hear
would not be the voice of some
ignoramus igniting ignoramuses; or
peace-purloining politician; or
chaos-causing creep;
in other words
you would make sure that
someone turned off the TV
so that
the only voices I would hear
would be
the voices
of those I love, and
your voice,
even if there is judgement in your voice,
because
it would be your voice still,
the peace of that.
And, Lord, we continue to pray for healing and hope,
strength and comfort and peace, for
those who are battling disease,
those who are suffering and hurting,
those who are grieving,
those who are struggling to get by,
those who are hungry and homeless.
Be with them!
And move us to be with them,
helping, assisting, strengthening them in whatever way we can!
O Lord, I know what
pitch-perfect pious proper pastors pray,
but since
I am none of the above,
I am free
to simply pray
that there will be a day
before my (our?) last day
when I (we?) actually feel
comfortable
enough
to enjoy
a peaceful day.
Again.
Amen.