being human,  breath,  embodied liturgies,  prayer

May the Earth Heal Me

Dear Creator God,

Thank you for creating me as one teeny tiny speck upon the magnificence that is this earth. Thank you for flowers, trees, grasses, dirt, bodies of water, mountains, creatures — large and small, of land and sea — even insects. Thank you for the sun, the moon, the stars, the billions of galaxies. Thank you for the awe-inspiring grandeur that is this created world.

Help me, dear God of all of life, to always live in wonder at this amazing place we call home. Please help me to be a steward of the land, to observe, pray with and for, learn and grow from the earth. Please mold me into the you, you want me to be. Please direct me to my greatest teachers here and show me my place within creation. Please move me to heal with the earth. And at the same time, please help me to help the earth heal too.

May I be humble. May I ever be a student of life. May I always be grateful. May I be gentle, loving and kind. May it be so. Amen.

I wrote this prayer yesterday in my new nature (& garden) journal. J and I have new direction and purpose for our garden and greenhouse business and I’m playing a larger role in it this year. During my contemplative practice over the winter months, I suspected that the earth holds medicine that will heal me. As the days grow longer and warmer, I am fully stepping into that healing. This prayer reflects some of my intentions.

(Photo by Na visky on Unsplash)