I think I have the flu. There, I've said it. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt.

I wrote the following before it really hit me—wham!—but didn't get a chance to post it. Now, I'm hopped up on pain/fever meds, so here it is.

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Yesterday was a stressful day. R had been up all Tuesday night at a client site tending an Upgrade Gone Bad. (Microsoft, I'm looking in your direction.) I tried to wait up, but finally gave in at 1 a.m. or so. At 4:45 a.m. I woke up with a start and realized he still wasn't home. Of course I couldn't go back to sleep. Of course his cell phone battery was dead. Of course his client is a doctor, which means phones switch to the answering service after hours. Of course the lateness of the hour preys on my tired and worried brain. Despite what I know of computers and the Rule of 4 (if a computer's involved, it takes 4 times longer than you think it will), R was surely lying in a ditch somewhere. He came home at 6.

So yesterday was one of those full days with little sleep.

[Edit: Hmm, I wonder if this is related to getting sick. Tired, weakened immune system? Bingo. Here's the ultimate irony. The All-Nighter of Jan. '05 occurred the day after we got tickets for the U2 concert. The nearest venue they're playing is about three hours away. It's a Saturday night, which is about the worst day ever for a clergy person to plan an outing. Not only that, but the concert is in May, the next day is Pentecost, which is a pretty important day in the church. So our plan is to really revert back to college-level common sense (i.e. none) by driving up the day of and coming back right after the concert. Home at 3 a.m. or so. Now our old tired bones (and my sick ones) are going, are we nuts? End edit.]


So yesterday was a tough day, BUT! The first e-mail I opened that bleary-eyed morning was from the editor of the preaching magazine for which I write worship resources. An e-mail had come in praising a prayer I had written. The funny thing is, I remember writing it, and I worried that it was a little Too Much. I still wonder, but at least one person found something meaningful. And that is always my hope. I wrote it several months ago on a rather emotional day—I was feeling totally fed up with conflict, the elections, and so on, and just wanted everyone to get over themselves.

At any rate, here it is—and the point of this rambling is to say, it was nice to get a word of encouragement on a dull day. To God be the glory.


O God, you call us into agreement with one another.
You urge us to end the divisions among us.
How is this even possible?
With fists clenched and jaws set,
we grip tightly our perspectives and opinions,
ready for battle with any who would challenge us.
We worship the god of Being Right.
Desperate to belong somewhere,
we claim allegiance to tribes of our own making—
tribes of doctrine, of politics, of social location.
Our quarrels reach your ears,
and even as we stammer out our excuses,
we know it is not your way.
Your way is excellent.
Your way is relationship, discipleship,
neighborliness, servanthood.
Your way transcends the dim truths
we might fashion from earthly assets.
And your way seems impossible for us to imagine.
Imagine it for us, gracious God.
Imagine it within us.
Show us how to drop the nets,
filled with our meager catch,
which we clutch to ourselves—
our paltry security, our self-made identity.
You have a better identity in mind for us.
Make us into your fishers of people.
Or perhaps we must simply allow ourselves
to be caught by you first.
Let us be one community,
a tangle of faults and foibles,
yet held in your net of grace.
This is your way.
We long for it, too. Amen.