A beautiful prayer about God’s grace came to me while on our vacation, playing out in front of me, as I sat poolside, warming my bones. It came in the form of wounded birds and animals, my daughter Claire, presenting herself literally, in these helpless situations. It all felt just awful and I wanted it to stop but I had no control over the unexpected expected nature of things.

I held all this in my heart, wanting to understand the deeper meaning of each piercing encounter, the pain in my heart for the desperate situation of each bird and fish. And then, it came to me how I was able to let it go, find my book and solace once again. I was meant to be on a restful vacation so I gave the painful unexpected to God. What else could I do for a duck with mangled webbed foot or a fallen baby bird at a big resort? But, it did amaze me how I could let that baby bird go, just steps from me, knowing it would probably die, when I had been so distraught, how cleanly I wiped it from my mind even hours later when the smell of its passing filled the air. Amazed at how I let my mind drift as the one legged mallard hopped into the lazy river and floated out of sight, and how Pat pulling me close, at the sight of the twisted spined fish helped me release it all. I think Claire was saying, See mom? See how that works? God’s grace helped you just there, helped you find peace and joy even in this, in times of wounds and illness, in loss and even death.

I began to recall the desperately trying days of my past, my wounded bird, listing-fish moments, when I gave it to God, finding moments of peace or joy, in the midst of that painful time. I was aware then, conscious of God’s gift of grace. It was never just me being brave, it was beyond me. I knew it. Claire is reminding me that this over-the-top amount of God’s grace still exists for me, and in me now, just as it did then.

It is miraculous how we humans go on, despite our desperateness. Life can be so hard but…LOOK… you are not sinking to the bottom. You are doing the courageous work of remaining healthy, finding God, finding Love, finding Joy in so many names, even in this, as you should. You amaze me and I thank God for you.

We are all swimming, searching, quaking, looking up with glistening eyes. We are not sinking to the bottom, even with heavy weights on our minds. We are doing the courageous work of finding joy still. It should give us pause then, Claire whispers, to pay attention to the ever-present active gift of God’s grace inside of us, through it all, to give thanks, even in the work of today.

Thank you, my girl for this beautiful prayer.

Dear Lord, I pray for the unexpected expected nature of things for the things we did not plan for caught unaware for all we thought we knew and got wrong I pray for paths with forks or ends for songs unsung still stuck in my head for bleary eyes and wakeful nights for all we hold dear that is not permanent and that is all save You. I pray for the fallen bird who took flight all too soon and looked up at me so searchingly eyes moist and glistening for the scent of loss that filled the air alongside a lazy river of joyful riders floating by knowingly and unknowingly revisiting the sacred again and again I pray for the mallard’s mangled web for its hopping about quacking and quaking without answer and me sitting in it, with it, helpless apart from being present I pray for the listing fish with twisted spine that I had always held as pliable and the wordless moment with my love as we stood clutching glimmering memories of you I pray for all my swimming and searching with sinking thoughts weighing heavy on my mind and yet Yes, yet I remain afloat I do not know what to pray for when I pray for the expected unexpected nature of things other than to be aware to be present in it and know Grace is here filling me up with a growing peace. In gratitude I pray. Amen