Tag Archives: healing

That We Might Be Healers Too

05 Wednesday Apr 2017

Posted by in Poems, Prayers

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Pali Coast

Pali Coast, Kauai

The world of your creating is beautiful, O God.

You are master sculptor of imposing mountain ranges,
rugged seascapes, luxuriant valleys, bubbling volcanoes.

You give thought to the birds of the air,
the cattle on the hill, the sea creatures and crawling things.

You orchestrate the sights and sounds of creation
to be a harmonious symphonic masterpiece
that all might know the abundance of your goodness.

There is no detail you leave unattended,
no part of this world beyond your concern.

And amazingly,
you are mindful of human beings –
made in your image,
made for relationship,
made of dust and water,
made of breath and hope,
made of dreams for becoming,
made to live at peace,
made to create,
made with a spark of divinity,
made with a twinkle in your eye,
made to hold and to heal,
made to trust,
made from a deep abiding love.

Our burdens begin
when we misplace our mindfulness of you.

Anxieties follow
when we forget who it is who holds our lives.

Troubles mount
when we boast that this is all meant for us.

Sorrows breed
when we ignore what you intend for our wholeness.

Heal us.
Shake us from our complacency.
Renew in us a vision of life’s harmony.
Restore in us a thriving hopefulness.
Stir up in us a righteous anger at injustice.
Prevent us from doing any more harm.
Call forth from us what is beautiful and true.
Lead us back to our sacredness.
Heal us, we pray, that we might be healers too.

Mark Lloyd Richardson
(c) 2017

Emmanuel

13 Sunday Dec 2015

Posted by in Peace with justice, Poems, Prayers, Reflections

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NASA Cloudy Earth medium

NASA Cloudy Earth, Flickr Creative Commons

What was spoken through the prophet is fulfilled:
Look! A virgin will become pregnant
and give birth to a son,
and they will call him, Emmanuel.
(Emmanuel means “God with us.”)

 In bomb-shattered cities
children unable to play freely in the streets

In poverty-wracked slums
families struggling to put food on the table

In violence-plagued neighborhoods
the young learning early that life is cheap

On tear-soaked refugee trails
people desperately looking for a way to freedom

On vulnerable island shores
communities fighting the futile battle against rising sea levels

In the midst of everyday pain,
in the grip of widespread suffering,
the promised one comes and takes up residence among us.

Emmanuel – God with us in our deepest need.

There is no one left out of this divine scheme,
no one whose accident of birth disqualifies them,
no one whose skin color lessens their sacred worth,
no one whose race or gender changes their standing before God,
no one whose religion or lack thereof alters God’s affection for them.

God’s concern is with the whole.
God’s dream is that we all will one day see:
What affects one affects all.
Injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere.
Suffering is never isolated or contained.
We weep with those who weep,
our tears mingling with the tears of divine compassion.

God with us—
the whole human race,
the whole soul-stirring creation,
the whole beguiling mystery of what it means to be alive.

God with us—
in our search for wholeness,
in our poverty of spirit,
in our labor for peace with justice,
in our reaching out with hearts and hands to help,
in our holding on tenaciously to hope.

Words (c) 2015 Mark Lloyd Richardson
Photo Credit: NASA Earth Observatory

 

God of Earth and Sky and Sea

04 Thursday Dec 2014

Posted by in Prayers, Worship Liturgy

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DSCN0779

A Prayer for the Second Sunday of Advent:

God of earth and sky and sea,
God of rich and poor and in-between,
God of lost and God of found,
God who is like a shepherd to us,
we walk the path of Advent awakenings,
mindful of your call to repentance and change,
thankful for your offer of mercy and grace.
You are ever before and behind us.
You are the one constant amid a sea of change.
You are the shepherd who feeds his flock,
the one who gathers the lambs in his arms (Isa 40:11).
You long for us to receive your word of comfort.
You announce that our penalty is paid,
that we are free to live with godlike compassion,
that we are empowered to bring comfort to the world.
Still we turn away,
and walk in paths that suit our own interests,
and fail to welcome the one who is different,
and justify our prejudices with Scripture verses.
Forgive us our sins, and change our hearts, O God.
In this time of waiting and watching,
we pray for all who need the comfort of your presence,
for all who need the comfort of your Church.
To those who are sick or in pain, bring wholeness.
To the lonely and discouraged, renew hope.
To the grieving and troubled, speak comfort.
To any who struggle with self-judgment, extend your grace.
To any who are exiled from your Church, awaken their faith.
(We silently bring our prayers for particular persons now.)
Make of us your forgiven and reconciling people.
Use us to welcome others into your kin-dom.
Stir up within us the faith to trust you with our blind spots,
our shortcomings, our very lives.
And even though our lives are transient like the flowers of the field,
feed us with your word that stands forever (Isa. 40:8).
In the name of the Christ who comes among us to heal and to save. Amen.

Words (c) 2014 Mark Lloyd Richardson

Inhabiting a Common and Precious Space

31 Friday Oct 2014

Posted by in Justice, LGBTQ, Reflections

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"Reach" Photo credit: Dallis Day Richardson

“Reach” Photo credit: Dallis Day Richardson

Methodists have a way of envisioning and living out our faith that is expressed in three simple rules:

  1. Do no harm
  2. Do good
  3. Stay in love with God

Bishop Reuben P. Job describes the first rule in such a way that we can see its potential to change the world one relationship at a time. We live in a time of intense culture wars, political battles, religious squabbling, and international tensions. We see the huge scale of harm being done in the world through both careless and deliberate acts, too often by people of faith and religious institutions. So it helps to hear Bishop Job describe the first simple rule as an “act of disarming, laying aside our weapons and our desire to do harm.” Healing the world requires change from within the human heart as well as outward behavioral change.

For years now the United Methodist Church has been doing considerable harm to our LGBTQ neighbors, family members, and friends. We have had language in our guiding document The Book of Discipline that marginalizes a whole community among us. A day will come when the language will be removed and the church will repent of all of the harm it has knowingly or unknowingly done to peoples’ lives. Especially painful is the legacy of young people who have felt rejected by the very church that exists to nurture love for God and one another.

Bishop Job writes that the act of disarming and seeking to do no harm is revealing in other ways: “We discover that we stand on common ground, inhabit a common and precious space, share a common faith, feast at a common table, and have an equal measure of God’s unlimited love. When I am determined to do no harm to you, I lose my fear of you; and I am able to see you and hear you more clearly. Disarmed of the possibility to do harm, we find that good and solid place to stand where together we can seek the way forward in faithfulness to God” (Reuben P. Job, Three Simple Rules: A Wesleyan Way of Living, Nashville: Abingdon Press, © 2007, pages 23-24).

We, the people of the United Methodist Church, need to remove language from our Discipline that continues to harm individual lives as well as the heart of our spiritual community. We need to listen deeply and intently to the stories of our LGBTQ neighbors, family members, and friends, about how the gospel is being misrepresented in our broken institutional life. We need to look deeply and intently into our own hearts for the places we are armed with weapons of fear, mistrust, and judgment, and seek God’s help in laying those weapons down. We need most of all to repent of the harm the church has already done to persons of sacred worth and commit ourselves anew to manifesting the beloved community where God’s justice and righteousness reign!

We inhabit a common and precious space. Let us begin to act like it.

God, in your grace that exceeds our imaginations and confronts our complacency, hear our prayer.

Words © 2014 Mark Lloyd Richardson
Photo © 2014 Dallis Day Richardson

In the Stillness Find Grace

10 Friday Oct 2014

Posted by in Centering Prayer, Reflections

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Meditation Chapel at La Casa de Maria in Santa Barbara, California

Meditation Chapel at La Casa de Maria in Santa Barbara, California

Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.

Our hour of centering prayer in the small Meditation Chapel tucked among the oak trees was nearing an end recently when our facilitator, Jeanette, said words to this effect.

I am always grateful to be able to sit prayerfully in silence with others. It is a community of prayer that lends support and peace to my life. Centering prayer is a contemplative form of giving your intention to God, and allowing your body, mind, and spirit to simply be in the presence of the Holy. It’s not about forming words or thoughts, like so much of the prayer I am asked to do in my work as a minister. Even though I am conscious of trying to let go of the need to say the right words or the best words when I pray in public, there is usually a sense that someone (not least of all myself) is measuring those words for an adequate expression of faith.

In centering prayer I let go of any need to satisfy others and simply sit in the stillness that is able to fill the cathedral of my inner being. Even when thoughts arise and distract me from my prayerful intention, I do not worry that my prayer is inadequate. I am aware of the Spirit welcoming me again and again into life and joy.

Jesus said, “The Reign of God has come near.”

For me, one of the most powerful settings for God to release the healing balm of grace is in a contemplative community praying alongside one another.

Words (c) 2014 Mark Lloyd Richardson

A Dog’s Last Will & Testament

22 Sunday Dec 2013

Posted by in Dogs

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bailey 3A year ago, just a few days before Christmas, my wife Dallis and I walked into a dog rescue organization “just to look.” We walked through the kennels, and in one we saw four small dogs. Three of them were jumping and barking as you might expect. The fourth one sat there quietly in the chaos and looked at us with eyes that said, “Well, are you going to let me out, or what?” We asked to see him. Then we walked him on a leash, and he didn’t seem to have a clue about that. But he was trusting and he liked to be held. So we took him home on a “trial basis” — no papers signed, no promises, no nothing! Within half-an-hour our hearts were hooked.

It had been almost a year since we lost our Pomeranian named Sadie, who died suddenly of congestive heart failure at the age of just eight years old. Our hearts were still a little tender. But Bailey entered our lives just before Christmas, much to our surprise, and helped in the healing process.

I ran across the piece below written by an unknown author that helps me to remember that the grief of loss is soothed by finding another pet to love.

bailey 2
Bailey was initially found wandering the streets of our city. He was in bad shape. He was held at the county shelter right up to the day before his time on earth was scheduled to expire. But the strange and wonderful serendipity of him entering our lives is that we initially thought we were “rescuing” him, and it turns out that he “rescued” us. He came into our lives right at the right time, and he makes us laugh at least once a day!

Here’s the piece titled, “A Dog’s Last Will and Testament,” author unknown. I imagine Sadie, who wasn’t all that crazy about other dogs, approving nonetheless of us finding another canine companion to share our home. Some of her toys and beds remain, and Bailey now enjoys them.

Before humans die, they write their Last Will & Testament, and give their home and all they have to those they leave behind.

If, with my paws, I could do the same, this is what I’d ask…

To a poor and lonely stray I’d give:
My happy home,
My bowl,
My cozy bed,
My soft pillows and all my toys,
The lap which I loved so much,
The hand that stroked my fur and the sweet voice which spoke my name.
I’d will to the sad, scared shelter dog the place I had in my human’s heart, of which there seemed no bounds.

So when I die please do not say, “I will never have a pet again, for the loss and pain is more than I can stand.” Instead, go find an unloved dog; one whose life has held no joy or hope and give MY place to him. This is the only thing I can give … the love I left behind.

bailey 5

O Blessed Spring

12 Sunday May 2013

Posted by in Reflections, Worship Liturgy

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Rushing waters

This morning in worship at our church I included a time of prayer and silent reflection on the scripture text for the day, Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21. We had a water display in front of the altar and I preached my sixth and final sermon in a series on the book of Revelation from the very close of the book, which is also the culmination of the biblical message. Following the service, some of the worshippers asked me to share this text on my blog. So here it is:

A Time of Prayer & Reflection

“Let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.” (Rev. 22:17) God in Christ wants to quench your spiritual thirst. Christ offers living water to those who seek it. This time of prayer and silent reflection is an opportunity for you to reflect upon the words of scripture, and to ask Christ to come and renew your spirit. We begin by singing verse 1 of song #2076, “O Blessed Spring,” and between verses will pause for silent reflection and prayer.

            Verse 1, #2076 “O Blessed Spring” (from The Faith We Sing songbook,
                                                                                               Abingdon Press, 2000)

The water of life is the water of spiritual refreshment and renewal.
Reflect on where Christ is renewing you in your life.

            30 seconds of silence

            Verse 2, #2076 “O Blessed Spring”

The water of life is the water of joy in the presence of God.
Reflect on where God is increasing your joy in your life.

            30 seconds of silence

            Verse 3, #2076 “O Blessed Spring”

The water of life is the water of grace to transform you and the world through you.
Reflect on where God is forgiving you and setting you free to live by faith.

            30 seconds of silence

            Verse 4, #2076 “O Blessed Spring”

The water of life is the water of cleansing and healing.
Reflect on where Christ is meeting you in your brokenness and making you whole.

            30 seconds of silence

            Verse 5, #2076 “O Blessed Spring”

The water of life is the water of peace for those with heavy burdens.
Reflect on where Christ, the holy Vine, the living Tree, blesses you with peace.

            30 seconds of silence

Come, Gracious God. Come, Lord Jesus. Come, Spirit of Gentleness. As we receive the water of life, may we be renewed in spirit, be made whole by your grace, and be blessed with your peace.

Words and photo (c) 2013 Mark Lloyd Richardson [Permission to use this liturgy in public worship with credit noted].

No one way to be

27 Wednesday Mar 2013

Posted by in Reflections

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Pismo Beach. Photo taken with my iPhone.

Pismo Beach, CA. Photo taken with my iPhone.

“Life on earth is a whole, yet it expresses itself in unique time-bound bodies…. So there can be no one place to be. There can be no one way to be, no one way to practice, no one way to learn, no one way to love, no one way to grow or to heal, no one way to live, no one way to feel, no one thing to know or be known. The particulars count.” ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn, Wherever You Go, There You Are

Our lives can change in an instant!

Four weeks ago today, my wife Dallis had surgery for a tumor that was discovered on one of her ovaries. The surgeon was fairly confident going into surgery that the tumor was benign. There had been no symptoms, and the only reason it was even found was because of an MRI done for a completely different medical condition.

The surgery went much longer than anticipated, and as I waited with friends in the hospital’s waiting room, the feeling that something wasn’t right began to sink into my bones. Hours later the surgeon came to meet with me in a small consultation room, and the first words out of her mouth were, “It’s not good. We found cancer. We’re not sure yet where it came from.” After she uttered these words, I struggled to remain present, to listen carefully in the hopes of remembering something, desperate to grab hold of words or phrases that sounded encouraging – “She came through surgery well;” “She’s recovering, and will be able to see you in a little while.”

I was the first person to receive this life-altering news, and for several moments I simply tried to catch my breath. Dallis was not yet alert enough to be told. She and I had both been encouraged by the doctor’s gut instinct before surgery that the tumor was benign, and at the same time I think we both retained a cautious concern that maybe it was not. Speaking for myself, throughout this ordeal I have preferred to hear facts first and then decide how to process my feelings, instead of hopping on board the already bumpy roller coaster ride of speculation.

A lot happens very quickly when a person receives a diagnosis of Stage 4 breast cancer – PET/CT Scan, MRIs, blood work, mammogram, biopsy, and more. Dallis attests that she has begun to feel like a guinea pig because of all the poking, prodding and invasions of privacy. Most of the doctors and nurses have been wonderful – caring, sensitive, responsive to individual needs, and good at communicating human warmth. Even so, the indignities of constant medical procedures and a disease that invades one’s body eventually take their toll.

I have not written anything for my blog in the intervening weeks because my focus has been on being present and available to Dallis. Close friends, family, and our church have also provided practical support and caring. Our mental/emotional/spiritual wellbeing hinges on being able to recognize our blessings and to believe in the healing potential of the prescribed treatment.

There are moments though … moments when fear grabs hold of you and you’re not sure how to shake it!

The other day Dallis wanted to get out of the house but she didn’t want to ask me in one of the busiest weeks in the church year to go with her. So she said that she was going to drive to the beach and take a walk by herself. I didn’t want her to have to go alone unless that was what she preferred, so I said to her, “There is no more important place for me to be than with you.” I assured her that I was okay with her going by herself, but that I didn’t want her to think that she couldn’t ask me or that I wouldn’t want to go.

So together we enjoyed a long walk on a stretch of beach with our dog Bailey!

It was a reminder that each day is to be prized for the gift that it is!

Words (c) 2013 Mark Lloyd Richardson

Reaching Out

13 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by in Poems, Uncategorized

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Have you seen Jesus?
I’ve been looking for him.
I met him as a child.
He was rugged
but he liked to hold children on his lap.
He smiled and laughed a lot.
He was the kindest friend imaginable.

Sometimes when I felt sad or alone
I would pray –
“Hi Jesus. It’s me. Remember me?”
He always did.
Then the tears running warm down my face
made me feel like I was alive again and not dead,
like I was found and no longer lost.

I’m not a boy anymore.
Life has become way more complicated.
There never seems to be enough time.
And I get tired from the grind.
I only wish I still had time to stop
and consider the lilies.

~            ~            ~

Thomas wasn’t there on the first day of the week –
the day Jesus came and stood among the disciples
behind their closed doors of fear.
Thomas didn’t hear the words of peace
or see the Lord’s wounded hands or side.
How could he know for sure that the Lord had even been there,
though the others assured him?

Oh, how he missed Jesus –
the ache was almost unbearable.

Seven long days later – what felt like an eternity –
they were gathered again in the same room.
This time Thomas was there,
though his heart did not possess the others’ joy.

Again Jesus came and stood among them.

Jesus said to Thomas,
“Put your finger here and see my hands.
Reach out your hand and put it in my side.
Do not doubt but believe.” (John 20:27)

Thomas reached out,
and in his reaching out
his heart flooded with memories –
meals for hungry crowds,
the Master’s voice teaching,
miracles of healing,
offers of forgiveness,
walking the dirt roads of Galilee and Judea,
reclining by each table with its bread and wine,
praying for the kingdom to come.

“My Lord and my God!” Thomas nearly shouted,
his heart bursting with rediscovered joy.
It was like being alive again after feeling so dead inside,
like being found,
like coming home.

Words (c) 2012 Mark Lloyd Richardson

An Ash Wednesday Prayer

22 Wednesday Feb 2012

Posted by in Prayers

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God of all creation,
you are gracious and merciful, slow to anger,
and you abound in steadfast love.

Today as I enter the closet of my heart,
I discover a lifetime of memories stored there –
some I would prefer to forget and leave behind,
others that remind me how truly blessed I am.

Today I hear again your invitation to renewal –
I hear it with every fiber of my being,
having been created in your image,
formed of the dust of your earth,
enlivened by the breath of your spirit,
established in the strength of your grace!

In these forty days of Lent, it is my heart’s desire
to surrender old harmful habits that yield nothing,
and to take up new holy habits that lead to life.

May this Lenten journey return me to a place of trust,
where my fear is conquered by your holy unshakable love,
where I am healed and made whole in the aliveness of life,
where doing justice,
and loving mercy,
and walking humbly with you,
are the ways of being that matter most.