At the end of the year
As this year draws to its end,
We give thanks for the gifts it brought
And how they became inlaid within
Where neither time nor tide can touch them.
As this year draws to its end,
We give thanks for the gifts it brought
And how they became inlaid within
Where neither time nor tide can touch them.
Holy One,
awaken my heart,
quiet my mind,
open the door of my being
to perceive your presence.
This is your garden, Creator God
a thing of beauty
beyond understanding…
O Dancer of Creation,
the earth awakens to an urgent call to grow.
In the hidden recesses of my wintered spirit
I, too, hear the humming of your voice,
calling me, wooing my deadness back to life.
Lord, lover of life, lover of these lives,
Lord, lover of our souls, lover of our bodies, lover of all that exists . . .
In fact, it is your love that keeps it all alive . . .
God of Holy Dreaming, Great Creator Spirit,
from the dawn of creation you have given your children
the good things of Mother Earth.
Why do I keep fighting you off?
One part of me wants you desperately,
another part of me unknowingly
pushes you back and runs away.
Our Aboriginal culture has taught us
to be still and to wait.
We do not try to hurry things up.
We let them follow their natural courses – like the seasons.
God of the seasons:
There is a time for everything.
There is a time for dying and rising.
We need courage to enter into the transformation process.
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.