Periodically I write and post a prayer for writers and for others. These prayers come out of my writing life, out of my hopes for the writers among us, and out of my desire for this blog to sit at the intersections between faith and writing. Pray them or a line from them, with and for the writers you read, know, and support. This prayer is about paying attention. Join me, if you will.
It’s hard to hear, see, and write the stories in us. It is often harder to attend to the you behind, under, and around those stories. The temptation to distraction is immeasurable. Our resolve to try is weak. Turn us in so we can wonder through the maze of ourselves and find good words. Turn us out so we can live full lives and feed the bellies from which strengthening words come. Writing is impractical. Make it so much a part of our days that we do it without thinking. Grant that living and writing become synonyms so we can say in truth that we live well or we write well, and so that either statement identifies the other. Spur us to focus on the important way of life, way of writing, you’ve given us. Narrow the long, wide fields of our worlds. Identify our purposes as rooted in this work. Give us joy in doing less better and in, therefore, doing more. Capture our minds with something sustainable, a character we can’t forget, an act that returns again and again. When our attention falters, gently get it back. When our energy wanes, lure us back. Help us continue looking, considering, telling, and and doing all these with better language and increasing elegance. In the name of the One who wrote lost words in the sand, Amen.