The Prodigal Pain

“And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.”                          Mark 14:35

Walk toward the pain, and you will find life.  Swallow the shallow thinking that bids you turn and run.  Refute the fear that declares you are not strong enough to endure the crucible of this moment.

Walk toward the pain and let it unveil the particulars of your life so you may see with clarity and dignity the reality of this moment.  Walk toward the pain and offer it your attentive ear as it relates what you most need to hear.

Pain is merely a messenger of the Spirit of God who wishes to convey wisdom.  Pain is a child of your heart which can be held and comforted and healed under the gaze of God’s love within you.  Pain, attended to, will be transformed.  Pain bathed in grace can be an instrument to resurrect what lies putridly decaying in your soul.

So, Friend, look to the Pain of your heart, comforted and guided by the life of a suffering Christ.  Listen to the Pain of your existence; and as he comes down the long road home to you, call out to him, “Welcome!”

In compassion, run with open arms toward him and embrace him.  Bring out the finest robe of your acceptance and clothe him.  Adorn him with the splendor of surrender.  And in celebration of what he has to teach, feast at the table of Pain’s wisdom.  Once Pain has disclosed the whole sordid, aching story, how will you respond?

For you had lost him, and now he has been found.

© Amy Persons Parkes 2013

*photo from Makezine.com 

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God in the Stranger

a prayer based on Luke 10:25-37, the parable of the Good Samaritan

Merciful God, many are the times that we have been known
to pass by on the other side of the weary and wounded.
Numerous are the days, Stranger God, that we have chosen the road of convenience
over the road of conviction.
Faithful One, enliven within us a Samaritan spirit,
that we might respond with courage in the face of our fear,
that we might risk our certain agendas for unexpected grace,
that we might give ourselves over to a generosity more bountiful
than the smallness of our single-minded self-preservation.
Break open our chained hearts and draw back the drapes of our darkened eyes
that we may go and do as you have done.  Amen.

© Amy Persons Parkes 2013