… a kind of prayer ~ Thomas Merton

'In the silence, everything begins to connect':

“I putter about the hermitage, make the bed, wash the breakfast dishes, sweep the porch; and something begins to order itself inside me as I order my external world. The ordering and puttering become a kind of prayer, a way of attending to the human which is a way of attending to the divine, charged as we are and the world is with the presence of God.” “One cannot pray and meditate unendingly. There is a rhythm to life lived anywhere that calms the heart …”

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Great Mystery

Great Mystery

Wakan Tanka, Great Mystery,

teach me how to trust my heart, my mind, my intuition,

my inner knowing, the senses of my body, the blessings of my spirit.

Teach me to trust these things

so that I may enter my sacred space

and love beyond my fear,

and thus walk in balance

with the passing of each glorious sun.

– American Indian Lakota Prayer

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PRAYER

reposted from

Silvia Mamani (Spiritname Shania) on Facebook

Prayer

Oh GREAT MYSTERY!

Creator of all we are! All we have! All we ever shall be!
I give to You my most humble gratitude.
I thank You for life and all that pertains to life about me.

I thank You for giving me this opportunity of life in this form so that I may walk among Your wonders with knowledge and given the option to be considerate and to care.I give You gratitude for those untold billions of lives that graciously gave themselves over to maintain this life over these many years, humbling me by their unselfish sacrifice just to keep me walking here. So much so as to realize the sacredness of life, upon this earth I share. Doubly grateful with each day, just knowing You placed them there.

I ask Your forgiveness Oh Great MYSTERY for all the petty things I’ve done. Cursing, griping and groaning over pains and shames thats done, with so little consideration for all the wisdom won.

With gratitude for all that was given and all that may yet to come. I give myself unto Your keeping to let Your will be done. Humbly asking and beseeching to use this aged parchment to face Your drum. Stretch it to its limit until under Your slightest touch it gives its loudest strum. Your drum signals given to all about and all that’s yet to come.

Forgive me if I sound selfish Oh Mystery after all you have already done. But for myself I have but one wish, perhaps a foolish one. That on that day when the mystery unfolds before me, when the work of this flesh is done, That I may utter with my final breath, “I DID ALL I SHOULD HAVE DONE!”

Thus I pause in this unending prayer, ending as was begun, with undying gratitude for everything You have given and for all that You have done.