Prayer for Parish Diocese and the World

 

Father, this day I would lift up to Thee those in the world who seem to have little or no knowledge of Thee, and the desire that Thou hast for a peaceful and tranquil existence for mankind. An existence that places Thyself at the center of all that is, and where all that is has its focus on Thee.

There are those who know Thee, and there are those who know of Thee, and it is those who know of Thee that I raise up to Thee with concern, for it is these who stand at the crossroads not knowing which way to go. The Angels rejoice when a step is made to travel the right path, but can only feel sadness when the wrong path is chosen.

For all who decide to reject Thee, and the sacrifice that was made through the death of Thy Son Jesus, I lift them up to Thee in the hope that they will see the error of their ways, and whatever or wherever circumstance may find them, they will be able to turn to Thee when in need.

This I ask and pray in Jesus’ name.
 

Amen

 

Pray for Lambeth 2008

For The Lambeth Conference:

We give you thanks, Heavenly God and Father, that in our Baptism you have called us to a goodly fellowship of faith and love in Christ.
We humbly beseech you that by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit we will be able to make The Lambeth Conference possible by sharing your gifts, talents and resources.
Turn our hearts toward each other so the world will believe you sent your Son for our Salvation. For the same Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Amen.

For The Lambeth Spouses Conference:

Pour down upon us, O God, the gifts of your Holy Spirit to nourish and enrich our lives. We pray that all those who prepare for the Lambeth Spouses Conference will build their work not on sand but on the rock of your wisdom alone.
Prepare the hearts of all who will attend the Conference to receive from you those gifts which only you can give, so that they may meet together with the joy and hope that comes from being your children. We pray this through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Scripture

Extract

Finding God in a Ladybug's Wings

Ever since my divorce from the father of my three young daughters, I'd felt disconnected from God, even though he'd been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. My relationship with him had been straightforward, just normal, like it was with my best friend, Lisa, my parents, or my sisters. In high school and college, through marriage and the births of my girls, I talked to him about everything: my hopes, dreams, disappointments, fears. Then my marriage crashed, and with it my belief that God truly cared about what happened to me.
  I still prayed about the big, important things­ like September eleventh and Saddam Hussein and the destruction of the rainforests. But when it came to me, to my family and the events of our everyday world, I was silent. That is, until the afternoon my six-year-old daughter, Chloe, found a ladybug and brought her home to be our pet.

I'd told Chloe and her sisters, Zoe and Caroline, the rules about pets in our apartment complex: It can't bark, meow, neigh, moo, or slither. A fish would be okay, but only if they were willing to clean the bowl. That had been enough to deter them. Then one day Chloe wandered inside with a grubby hand curled into a fist and a wide smile on her face.

"Mommy, I've found us a pet," she declared proudly as she opened her hand to reveal a fat, red-and-black creature caught in her sweaty palm. I looked down at the tiny insect and forced myself not to laugh. I'd said we couldn't have a dog or cat-I'd never said anything about a ladybug.

"Her name is Ashley, Mama. Can we keep her'" my impetuous daughter implored, eyes wide and pleading. Her two sisters joined in the plea. I looked down at my three lovely girls and nodded my head, grinning. "Yes, I told them, you can keep your ladybug for a pet."

They went into action. First, a glass mason jar for Ashley's home. Zoe picked grass blades to put in the bottom of the jar. Caroline dripped water from a straw onto the grass so Ashley wouldn't get thirsty. And Chloe was the Mother Protector. Nobody was allowed to touch the precious pet; only looking was permitted.

All afternoon they carried that jar around, showing Ashley off to the neighbor kids. They talked to her, sang "The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round.. ." (Chloe's favorite song), and plotted out who would get to sleep with the jar in their room each night for the next week. I smiled, listening to them, as I browned meat and shredded cheese for tacos.

Suddenly Chloe burst into the kitchen with a worried frown on her face. "Something's wrong with Ashley, Mom," she said. "She's not moving:"
I took a look for myself. Sure enough, Ashley did not appear to be thriving in our care. She lay per­fectly still on a single blade of grass. I couldn't tell if she was alive or dead.

"Chloe," I said, gathering my young daughter close, "maybe Ashley misses her mama. Maybe she wants to go home. Maybe we should let her go." I watched as my sweet child raised dark brown eyes to mine, and I saw the tears threatening to fall. But I was caught off guard by the maturity in her voice when she finally spoke.

"You're right, Mommy," she said, her voice barely audible. "But do you think she'll ever come back? Do you think we'll ever see her again, and will she remember us?"

I hugged Chloe and whispered, "I don't know if she'll come back, honey. But I think every time we see a ladybug, we'll know it might be her. And we'll know that, while she was here, we loved her."

Chloe nodded, trying not to cry, and together we went outside and carefully lifted Ashley out of the mason jar. We set her down on a piece of grass, and nothing happened for a long moment. Suddenly, as abruptly as she'd entered our life, Ashley was gone... lifting tiny wings to fly away.

That night, as I watched my daughters sleeping in their beds, I had a talk with God. I told him I was sorry that I had been distant and that I missed him. I talked to him about Ashley the ladybug and how my daughters were always teaching me to find miracles in ordinary things: that ladybugs can be pets, that rocks can be diamonds, that dew on the grass can be magic drink for invisible leprechauns hiding under mush­rooms. "They believe it all, Lord," I told him, "and they don't need anyone else to convince them."

I told him that if he could help a six-year-old let a beloved ladybug go, maybe he could help a forty-year-old mother let go of a few things too-like foolish pride and a bitter spirit.

"I love you, God," I prayed that night, "and I thank you for showing up on a ladybug's wings:"

Donna Surgenor Reames

A Cup of Comfort for Christians

Margaret and James Bell Adams Media