Lord, we are a little church with a funny name

and we are here, more or less, this morning.

Be with us when we are confused

and sad

and glad

and grateful

and when we have energy

and when we don’t.

Help us to remember even as we’re in transition

that we are—as improbable as this seems—part of your plan for raising the world from the dead.

Do raise the world, Lord. We offer you our inadequate hands.

Give us, your church, something to give the world.

Remind us that we know

there are no good people

only broken people created in the image of a good God,

people under heavy reconstruction.

Build us from the bones out, into what we are: the body of Christ,

the children of God,

the ones who breathe Your Spirit.

Teach us to love this rainy city as you do. Be especially with all its children,

and most especially those whose families are sinking in the flood of this pandemic.

Teach us to remember that time

and life

and love

and hope

all move differently when we see them from inside your resurrection.

Watch, O Lord, with those who wake, or watch, or weep

this year, and give your angels and saints charge over those who dream.

Tend your sick ones, O Lord Christ.

Rest your weary ones.

Bless your dying ones.

Soothe your suffering ones.

Pity your afflicted ones.

Shield your joyous ones,

and all for your love’s sake.

Amen.

— Written by Stephanie Ladd with and addendum by St. Augustine