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A Most Uncomfortable Prayer
Feb. 17, 2026 15:48 Filed in: Commentaries
Friends, The Welcoming Prayer often evokes strong feelings in me, and likely many of you.
Here's what it boils down to:
I let go of my desire
for security, affection, and control,
and I embrace this moment just as it is.
Woof. Frankly: Security, affection, and control are things I'd prefer to hang on to all the time. This prayer is uncomfortable.
We all want to feel safe, to feel loved, and to feel like we have some control over our lives. We take all kinds of steps in pursuit -- so much so that we can easily find ourselves chasing security or affection or control or all three in destructive ways. As the Rev. Anna Broadbent-Evelyn said in her homily yesterday: sometimes things get in the way of our relationship with God, our source, and we need to shuv, repent, return to God.
The Welcoming Prayer grows out of the deep roots of the Christian contemplative tradition, inviting us to become more aware of the Holy Spirit's work in us in the midst of fear, loneliness, and loss of control. Letting go of the ways we chase those false idols, we can say yes to following the Way of Jesus.
In this season of Lent, I invite you to try on the Welcoming Prayer. It isn't comfortable; it is a way to have an honest connection with God in the midst of the incredible instability of life in these times in this place. Get all the information you need and register now here.
With love,
Susan+
Transfiguration Drama!
Last Sunday, members of Grace of all ages presented a drama for us — bringing life to the story of the Transfiguration. You can watch here.
A big thank-you to all those who participated, especially Liz Athorn and Louise Robinson who pulled it all together!
From Doom to Clarity: A Guided Lenten Practice
Mar. 16, 2025 12:49 Filed in: Spiritual Practice | Audio
Week of Lent II, March 16: From Doom to Clarity
(Luke 13:31-35) “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” In this passage, Jesus weeps over the self-destructive patterns that seem to doom a beloved city, bemoaning their refusal of help. We too grieve over the self-destructive choices of our own lives, of loved ones, of our society. We see Jesus wrestle a clear mission out of this grief: he sets his face toward Jerusalem, knowing his own death is at the end of the road.
Where does grief over self-destructive patterns show up in your life? What is yours to change in this situation? How might you pray for the courage to change what you can?
[ Listen to audio version ]
Find a comfortable spot in your space. Sit or lie down in a way that allows your body to fully relax. Take your time, making any necessary adjustments. If your body offers you guidance about what it needs to fully soften into this moment, heed its advice.
Once you're feeling supported and settled, gently shine the flashlight of your awareness onto your breath, be curious--- what do you find? Is it smooth and even? Are you craving a deeper inhale or more luxurious exhale? Does it reach to your belly or is it living up and among your collarbones? Invite your breath to soften and lengthen – signaling to your mind and nervous system that it’s ok to drop into this moment, there is no place else to go, nothing else to do.
Release your awareness from your breath and trust it to do what needs to be done to breathe your body.
Now, again using your awareness like a flashlight, bring your awareness to your feet. Check in with the soles of the feet, the tops of the feet, the ankles. Let your noticing gradually pull upwards, checking in with your calves, shins, and knees.
Consider the strong muscles of your upper leg – the hamstrings, quadriceps, all the tendons. Notice any tension still present and gently soften deeper into your seat.
Bring your awareness to the hips, pelvic bowl, seat...imagine the light of your awareness working its way into the intricate workings of your hip sockets, softening whatever tightness you may find.
Let the awareness move up now into the belly bowl, the lower back. Fill the whole lower torso with breath and the light of awareness.
Let it continue up, checking in with the diaphragm, the rib cage, the lungs – take some time to saturate all the vital organs and muscles in your chest cavity with awareness and breath.
Notice now as the flashlight of awareness gently rises to fill in the space around the collarbones, the shoulder blades, and pools along the strong muscles atop your shoulders. Imagine your awareness cascading down each arm – touching your biceps, triceps, elbows, forearms, wrists…hands and fingers. Notice as any tension or tightness drips out the tips of the fingers and returns to the earth.
Train your gentle awareness on your neck and let it fill and move along the muscles on the front of the neck, the sides, the back. Release the root of the tongue, release the jaw. Let the muscles of your face and scalp soften, giving some extra noticing to your temples, the tiny muscles across your forehead, and the deep pockets of the eye sockets.
Good – now notice as your entire human form is full of gentle awareness and breath. Just breathe into the shape of you for another moment.
Now, into this soft, supported, and open human consciousness space, consider your relationship with the shadows of the human experience – the ways we act that move us further from God, further from love, further from community.
With curiosity as your companion, consider the actions and patterns you notice in the world right now – what is it like to intentionally feel and grieve the ways that humans act against our common good? Be gentle and incremental – let in as much or as little as feels manageable in this moment. What arises as you turn your awareness fully towards the painful truth of our human capacity to act in ways that work against God’s wishes for us?
Keep breathing… Now release your awareness from the world at large – perhaps move a bit or gently shake to reset the moment and the nervous system.
And breathe and settle. Let us rein in our awareness and focus now on our own actions and patterns. Consider ways in which YOU treat yourself or others that are in contrast to God’s call to love, consider our own behaviors that destruct and destroy.
Be gentle, be curious. Again, use choice here – take in drop by drop of this awareness, and keep breathing. It is not our job to account for all of humanity’s shadow and destruction. God doesn’t ask us to hold it all or to fix it all. We know that as humans we wander from God’s path as individuals and as a collective.
And, God invites us, again and again, to RETURN ourselves to the path to Jerusalem. By sitting with and grieving the ways we turn away, we allow space to consciously CHOOSE to return, to turn back towards God’s love and God’s way. Feel into that return here and now.
As you use your present moment awareness to turn back towards God’s invitation to return to the path of loving and right action – what is yours to claim? What is yours, truly yours, to do in this moment?
Use your senses to bring this change that IS yours to enact to life – what does it look like, sound like, feel like? Let your heart be filled with the courage of those who have returned to God’s path again and again. Feel into the collective strength of the shared faith that even when our self-destructive tendencies are laid bare, we can choose again and again to return to love, return to action, return to one choice that connects us to God and our fellow humans.
Once you’ve identified your action step, release any practice and tend fully to three deep breaths. Then return to the room and stretch to come back into the present moment.
Podcast
(Luke 13:31-35) “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” In this passage, Jesus weeps over the self-destructive patterns that seem to doom a beloved city, bemoaning their refusal of help. We too grieve over the self-destructive choices of our own lives, of loved ones, of our society. We see Jesus wrestle a clear mission out of this grief: he sets his face toward Jerusalem, knowing his own death is at the end of the road.
Where does grief over self-destructive patterns show up in your life? What is yours to change in this situation? How might you pray for the courage to change what you can?
[ Listen to audio version ]
Find a comfortable spot in your space. Sit or lie down in a way that allows your body to fully relax. Take your time, making any necessary adjustments. If your body offers you guidance about what it needs to fully soften into this moment, heed its advice.
Once you're feeling supported and settled, gently shine the flashlight of your awareness onto your breath, be curious--- what do you find? Is it smooth and even? Are you craving a deeper inhale or more luxurious exhale? Does it reach to your belly or is it living up and among your collarbones? Invite your breath to soften and lengthen – signaling to your mind and nervous system that it’s ok to drop into this moment, there is no place else to go, nothing else to do.
Release your awareness from your breath and trust it to do what needs to be done to breathe your body.
Now, again using your awareness like a flashlight, bring your awareness to your feet. Check in with the soles of the feet, the tops of the feet, the ankles. Let your noticing gradually pull upwards, checking in with your calves, shins, and knees.
Consider the strong muscles of your upper leg – the hamstrings, quadriceps, all the tendons. Notice any tension still present and gently soften deeper into your seat.
Bring your awareness to the hips, pelvic bowl, seat...imagine the light of your awareness working its way into the intricate workings of your hip sockets, softening whatever tightness you may find.
Let the awareness move up now into the belly bowl, the lower back. Fill the whole lower torso with breath and the light of awareness.
Let it continue up, checking in with the diaphragm, the rib cage, the lungs – take some time to saturate all the vital organs and muscles in your chest cavity with awareness and breath.
Notice now as the flashlight of awareness gently rises to fill in the space around the collarbones, the shoulder blades, and pools along the strong muscles atop your shoulders. Imagine your awareness cascading down each arm – touching your biceps, triceps, elbows, forearms, wrists…hands and fingers. Notice as any tension or tightness drips out the tips of the fingers and returns to the earth.
Train your gentle awareness on your neck and let it fill and move along the muscles on the front of the neck, the sides, the back. Release the root of the tongue, release the jaw. Let the muscles of your face and scalp soften, giving some extra noticing to your temples, the tiny muscles across your forehead, and the deep pockets of the eye sockets.
Good – now notice as your entire human form is full of gentle awareness and breath. Just breathe into the shape of you for another moment.
Now, into this soft, supported, and open human consciousness space, consider your relationship with the shadows of the human experience – the ways we act that move us further from God, further from love, further from community.
With curiosity as your companion, consider the actions and patterns you notice in the world right now – what is it like to intentionally feel and grieve the ways that humans act against our common good? Be gentle and incremental – let in as much or as little as feels manageable in this moment. What arises as you turn your awareness fully towards the painful truth of our human capacity to act in ways that work against God’s wishes for us?
Keep breathing… Now release your awareness from the world at large – perhaps move a bit or gently shake to reset the moment and the nervous system.
And breathe and settle. Let us rein in our awareness and focus now on our own actions and patterns. Consider ways in which YOU treat yourself or others that are in contrast to God’s call to love, consider our own behaviors that destruct and destroy.
Be gentle, be curious. Again, use choice here – take in drop by drop of this awareness, and keep breathing. It is not our job to account for all of humanity’s shadow and destruction. God doesn’t ask us to hold it all or to fix it all. We know that as humans we wander from God’s path as individuals and as a collective.
And, God invites us, again and again, to RETURN ourselves to the path to Jerusalem. By sitting with and grieving the ways we turn away, we allow space to consciously CHOOSE to return, to turn back towards God’s love and God’s way. Feel into that return here and now.
As you use your present moment awareness to turn back towards God’s invitation to return to the path of loving and right action – what is yours to claim? What is yours, truly yours, to do in this moment?
Use your senses to bring this change that IS yours to enact to life – what does it look like, sound like, feel like? Let your heart be filled with the courage of those who have returned to God’s path again and again. Feel into the collective strength of the shared faith that even when our self-destructive tendencies are laid bare, we can choose again and again to return to love, return to action, return to one choice that connects us to God and our fellow humans.
Once you’ve identified your action step, release any practice and tend fully to three deep breaths. Then return to the room and stretch to come back into the present moment.
Podcast
Falling in Love with Lent
Mar. 05, 2025 15:57 Filed in: Commentaries | Spiritual Practice
Falling in Love with Lent
A Reflection by the Rev. Lydia Gajdel
I fell in love with Lent when I was in college, sitting quietly in a tiny, windowless, incense filled chapel as the Jesuits preached a theology grounded in God’s abounding love for her complex, flawed creatures. Something about wandering into the desert with Jesus and our ancestors made sense to me and continues to feel like a natural way for me to grow closer to God.
That is what we do every year as we enter into the journey of Lent. Stripping down the trappings of existence and grounding ourselves in the fullness of our humanity, the beauty and brokenness inextricably linked, so we may come face to face with God’s redeeming love for us. In Lent, we are given the gift of 40 days to recalibrate ourselves to the rhythms of our created being and who we say we are as Christians. It is important that we do not go straight to Easter. We do not jump to the good part and celebrate our redemption without wading through the muck for a moment. Because for the resurrection to happen, we need death. We cannot have salvation without first standing before that which we need saving from, that which separates us from God. It is a natural part of our very existence. Death and renewal happen every year as the snow melts and the world turns green again, as friendships fade and new ones form, as the death of a loved one cracks us open and ushers in a new part of ourselves we may have never had access to before. And so we spend 40 days peeling back the layers, experiencing our own brokenness, so that we may be able to truly relish in the triumph of our redemption.
Lent this year feels particularly poignant, like our human brokenness is on full display as we wonder silently and aloud how this is all going to get redeemed. When we confess our sins together, we repent of the evil that enslaves us, the evil we have done and the evil done on our behalf. We do not have to look farther than our favorite news outlet or social media cesspool to grapple with the evil of which we pray. And just as the world finds another creative way to embrace chaos, we are invited out into the desert, into our Lenten practice. It is because of, not despite, the world in which we live that we intentionally prepare, listening for God’s call through the cacophony of sound and taking another step closer to God and who God created us to be. Lent was never made for self-flagellation, but rather to name and examine the ways in which we are separated from God and to intentionally turn back.
During this time when the world feels big and scary for so many of us, when emotions run high and it feels like we spend our days fighting, fleeing, and fawning, we are reminded of the words and deeds of our faith. On Ash Wednesday, each one of us is invited to the observance of a holy Lent. The liturgy asks us to do so “by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.” In this time set apart, 40 days to wander in the desert, we are invited to be in the world anew, reconnecting with ourselves and our Maker. No matter what the journey back to God looks like for each of us as individuals, let us take solace in knowing we walk the road together.
A Reflection by the Rev. Lydia Gajdel
I fell in love with Lent when I was in college, sitting quietly in a tiny, windowless, incense filled chapel as the Jesuits preached a theology grounded in God’s abounding love for her complex, flawed creatures. Something about wandering into the desert with Jesus and our ancestors made sense to me and continues to feel like a natural way for me to grow closer to God.
That is what we do every year as we enter into the journey of Lent. Stripping down the trappings of existence and grounding ourselves in the fullness of our humanity, the beauty and brokenness inextricably linked, so we may come face to face with God’s redeeming love for us. In Lent, we are given the gift of 40 days to recalibrate ourselves to the rhythms of our created being and who we say we are as Christians. It is important that we do not go straight to Easter. We do not jump to the good part and celebrate our redemption without wading through the muck for a moment. Because for the resurrection to happen, we need death. We cannot have salvation without first standing before that which we need saving from, that which separates us from God. It is a natural part of our very existence. Death and renewal happen every year as the snow melts and the world turns green again, as friendships fade and new ones form, as the death of a loved one cracks us open and ushers in a new part of ourselves we may have never had access to before. And so we spend 40 days peeling back the layers, experiencing our own brokenness, so that we may be able to truly relish in the triumph of our redemption.
Lent this year feels particularly poignant, like our human brokenness is on full display as we wonder silently and aloud how this is all going to get redeemed. When we confess our sins together, we repent of the evil that enslaves us, the evil we have done and the evil done on our behalf. We do not have to look farther than our favorite news outlet or social media cesspool to grapple with the evil of which we pray. And just as the world finds another creative way to embrace chaos, we are invited out into the desert, into our Lenten practice. It is because of, not despite, the world in which we live that we intentionally prepare, listening for God’s call through the cacophony of sound and taking another step closer to God and who God created us to be. Lent was never made for self-flagellation, but rather to name and examine the ways in which we are separated from God and to intentionally turn back.
During this time when the world feels big and scary for so many of us, when emotions run high and it feels like we spend our days fighting, fleeing, and fawning, we are reminded of the words and deeds of our faith. On Ash Wednesday, each one of us is invited to the observance of a holy Lent. The liturgy asks us to do so “by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word.” In this time set apart, 40 days to wander in the desert, we are invited to be in the world anew, reconnecting with ourselves and our Maker. No matter what the journey back to God looks like for each of us as individuals, let us take solace in knowing we walk the road together.