You have come alongside us for the Lenten journey. These are early days. We do not fully understand the destination. Jerusalem is both a memory and a dream. In the early hours before dawn, the air is cool and the sky remains dark. What we do see is obscured by our own fear. Help us to progress forward this day. May we trust when we do not see. May we seek when the path is dark. May we proclaim when there is no one to hear. In this place and moment, we light your light. We proclaim your word. You church is here, on our journey, in this sacred space. Consecrate our time, our words, and the world around us so that we may worship you in safety and peace. Bless those who are sick, grieving, hungry, cold, and ailing among this community and beyond. May we go to them as ministers of grace and mercy who carry the reality of healing and hope. Into brokenness of our lives, sand the jagged edges of emotions that stop us from truly living in community and journeying with others. Forgive us for seeking to live beyond hope.
For all that we are, you are more than we imagine,