what prayers persist

In our Thursday AM study group at St. Andrew we are reading Jan Richardson’s wonderful book, In the Sanctuary of Women.

Tomorrow we at 10:00 am we will be discussing chapter one.

It is about Eve.

Jan ponders lots of questions about Eve.  Among them is one something like this:

 

What prayers persist beneath the layers of paint on your life?

 

Jan says there are blessings buried beneath the layers of who Eve has become to us.  These blessings have become nearly impossible to discern because of the layers others have added to her story over the centuries, “a patina of interpretation and the crackling of conflict, lines laid down by those who have sought to inscribe their meaning across the canvas.  They have looked into the layers and said . . . ”

 

What do you see within Eve’s story?

What hovers for you beneath and between the lines of the text?

What blessing in Eve’s life do you find with your own eyes?

 

And, now . . . among Jan’s blessings for you are these:

Throughout this day and this night, may you know the breath of God breathing in you.

and

May you discover that Wisdom and Courage are lovers.  Their secret is that their dwelling has no lamps.  At sunset they say a prayer that in the night their ears hands noses tongues will tell them what they need to know . . . The neighbors find them odd, but their children – Compassion, Integrity, Hope – have learned the wonder of a heart unhiding itself, coming as gift to our deepest eye.

and

When all about you lies in pieces, may the Holy One make of them a passage.

and

May the desires of your heart draw you toward creation and connection.  May you know always and always, you are not alone.   The Mother is in you.  The Father is in you.  The wind, the fire, the sea, the touch of your love, the mountain, the desert, the plateau, the city, the country, the song, the prayer, the silence, the laughter – boisterous/ebullient joy, the tears – aching/forlorn sobbing, the quiet hope of the flickering candle, the sand of the beach, the food on your table, the wine of your tasting,, the sight and sound of the sand hill crane in flight . . .may all these and more remind you . . . you are not alone!

and

May the Holy One, who created you from words and dust and called you good, inhabit your every hunger, dwell in each desire, and encompass you in the choosing that lies ahead.