From Jan Richardson, The Cure for Sorrow, A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief.

Blessing in a Time of Violence

Which is to say

this blessing

is always.

Which is to say

there is no place

this blessing

does not long

to cry out

in lament,

to weep its words

in sorrow,

to scream its lines

in sacred rage.

Which is to say

there is no day

this blessing ceases

to whisper

into the ear

of the dying,

the despairing,

the terrified.

Which is to say

there is no moment

this blessing refuses

to sing itself

into the heart

of the hated

and the hateful,

the victim

and the victimizer,

with every last hope

it has.

Which is to say

there is none

that can stop it,

none that can

halt its course,

none that will

still its cadence,

none that will delay

its rising,

none that can keep it

from springing forth

from the mouth of us

who hope,

from the hands of us

who act,

from the hearts of us

who love,

from the feet of us

who will not cease

our stubborn, aching,

marching, marching

until this blessing

has spoken

its final word,

until this blessing

has breathed

its benediction

in every place,

in every tongue:

Peace

Peace

Peace.



You are invited to a weekly Thursday Service of Lament, “Here is Where I Come to Grieve,” a time of sharing our grief about violence and war. We will gather for about twenty minutes each week at Noon on Thursdays, beginning this Thursday, October 26, at the Chapel in the First Presbyterian Church, 215 Locust Street NE, Albuquerque, 87102.

 You are the Light of the World.

With Love,

Lynne