So Holy, Holy, Holy God,

   God of baptismal claiming,

  and God of bitter weeping,

God of all - we give you thanks,

   for there is nowhere we can go apart from you Spirit,

   nowhere we can flee from your presence. 

We can descend to our southernmost border, and you are there.

We can fight through fires to the west, and you are there.

We can feel the freezing to the east, and you are there.

We practice exit strategies, necessary because

         evil knows no bounds, but neither do you.

We feel our guts churn, with the faces of children 

        we have pulled from parents, but you are with them.

We hear the breaking of our our hearts with loss of love, 

         but still you hold us fast.

God, we are people who know of broken things,

  but you are a God who doesn’t succumb to the brokenness.

So for all the darkness threatening us now,

   whatever brokenness is threatening to break us,

   assure us that we have not escaped you, holy God.

Cleanse us with your coals.

Lift us with your wings.

Do not let us go.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

Holy God, there is nowhere we can flee from your presence.

And we should know, 

    for we have tried. 

We hold onto pain and shame,

    finding it a comfortable place to hide.

We insist your great plans are not for us.

We let the brokenness overwhelm,

  crying “woe is me,” without lifting the “here I am.”

But we cannot hide from you, can we Lord.

For you - the dark is as light as day.

For you - the brokenness is opportunity for beauty.

So find us in our hiding spaces,

    and remind us whose we are.

Tell us again that we have been named and claimed by you,

    let the waters of your font cover us,

      remind us we are yours, and in us there is nothing you cannot do.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

So find us, holy God.

Wash us again in baptismal water.

Reveal the heavenly visions you have in mind for us,

     that we might work for your kingdom, not our own,

     that we might be images of your grace,

         even in the midst of broken pieces.

Paint in us visions of your throne,

   forever constant, in the face of desperate, failing evil.

Strike from our lips the condemnation and division,

    that we might even sing with your chorus:

      singing holy, holy, holy,

      singing life, and love, and light,

      singing reconciliation and redemption,

        until all your children are treated as your children.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

So God, hold us in all that is broken,

    but lift our eyes.

Squeeze from our hearts and draw from our lips,

     the “here I am, Lord, send me.” 

Wash over us again with your grace,

    and connect us as your body,

       your church,

          your grace in this world this day.