I am not all prayed out, but sometimes I get all worded out.
I know the Spirit prays on my behalf when there are no words,
But this is different. I am just out of words. There are words, I just don’t know which ones to use.
Maybe this is the time I turn to my body, and prostrate myself on the hard cold floor, or maybe just across the bed. Or maybe I lift up my hands and reach for You, or curl in quietly, imagining your grace dripping all over me while I feel your arms enwrapped around me.
As I offer my body-prayer, it is for the immigrants. Those souls, a majority were children and youth, who drowned in the sea last weekend who were desperate for a life. Any kind of life. I pray for their parents who are in abject despair.
I am on the floor now, Sweet Holy, rolled in a child pose, crying for You, for your world, for my world.
Rev. Karla Miller is a UCC pastor serving as Minister of Community Life at Old North Church in Marblehead, MA, one of the most quaint and lovely places on the North Shore of Boston. She really loves all kinds of dogs, and longs for a goat and a flock of chickens. Once in a while she blogs at
do. love. walk. what more can I say?
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