God, I know you’re awfully busy, so I’m not sure if you noticed how a group of us gathered at a farm. How we put on our vestments and beat the bounds and chanted a litany. How we remembered the people the land had been taken from and our complicity in that.
I’m writing to thank you, though. Thank you that I am in a not yet space and yet accepted and welcomed. Thank you for our clear, strong voices and the sweat on our foreheads. Thank you for the work the farm does to fight food insecurity, to reteach lost connections between your good earth and our wavering spirituality. Thank you for you body broken in a field while the birds sang, thank you for unexpected rest.
Your people long for rest. In war zones filled with smoke and death, in the lives of workers who have already spent the pay they will earn today, in centuries of systemic oppression and violence.
Let those who long for sabbath have it. Let those of us who have rested take up their work.
Holy Gardner, I pray fervently for a field on a mild day, a gentle breeze blowing through the grass. I pray to see a long, long procession of humanity walking and singing together toward a table so long it stretches out of sight.
I am not tired. Let me work while others rest.
Alicia Hager resides in West Michigan and is a Postulant to the Sacred Order of Priests in the Episcopal Church. Alicia enjoys spending time with her daughters and her husband, is bonkers about her cats, and blogs at astrawberrypointe.wordpress.com
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