A prayer for 2017
May you no longer wait for permission to get shit done. May you grow stronger. May you run like hell and may your Fitbit track every damn mile of it. May you buy only vegetables and organize our finances and become translator of the year. I so believe in you.
May you change your “sorry” to “thank you.” Stop apologizing for taking up space and farting and sweating and marking up the inside of the toilet. No more apologizing for your range of opinions, for sharing strange facts, for reading me quotes, for sending me articles, for voting for Gary Johnson. No more apologies for spilling your heart out in the car and missing the exit. No more sorry’s for wrestling with faith and with Jesus and with a changing theology. Shame is not the boss of us.
May you do a great work and not come down. May you read the good words and let them live out loud on your arms and face and mind. May you find language that speaks to you and wakes you up and reminds you of your purpose. May you write the truth down with sharpie and may it cover your walls and wrists and windows.
May you watch your babies grow and feel the deep pain and tenderness that comes from each fleeting moment. May you wake your son up on his third birthday with balloons and Lucky Charms. May you kiss your baby girl as she turns two and may we come up with a better theme than “Spider” (I’m thinking pumpkin? ghost? Open to suggestions…) May you hold my hand as I labor in the car and scarf down a whole can of mixed nuts. May you welcome threehie graciously, openly, with generous amounts of love. May you speak hope and grace into his tiny heart. May we remember each Kairos moment.
May your heart overflow and pour out with little effort. May you be sentimental and love hard. May love kick your ass and knock the wind out of you and move you to tears. May your love be unrelenting. May you pursue relationships without apology. May you move across the country to have coffee with your best friend once a week. May you tell your people that they hold you together. May you give yourself completely to them. May you remember that without them, you are just stranded, broken, pieces of your true self.
May you learn to disagree without looking ugly. May you disagree without being contentious and without being greedy and without rolling your eyes. May you appreciate the other side of the story and the thoughts that you do not share. May you hold your tongue and never forget, you are not so smart.
May you remember that the only way forward is a broken heart. May your heart break over and over and over again. May the pain of humanity wash over you and keep you from getting out of bed some days. May the sorrow be too much to bear and too great a burden to carry. May you sob when you hear the stories and see the pictures. May your knees get bruised from praying. May you fight the good fight. May you give a fuck ton of money.
May you remember that Jesus asked two questions: Who is power forgetting? Who is religion oppressing? And may you gather your people together around the table and discuss that. We follow Jesus because he asked good questions, not because the Bible has all the right answers. May you not be afraid of a changing theology and for skipping church on Christmas. This house. These faces. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are The Church. The people around this table are the holy ones.
May 2017 be the year for you. May you tell your truth. Say what you need. Ask for it. Confess it. Blog about it. Speak out loud and don’t shut up and don’t back down and don’t relax. YOLO and may you always remember that bringing your darkness to light is the only healing process there is.
My love, let’s make a baby. Let’s create space to become healthier versions of ourselves. Let’s give away as much money as possible. Let’s be moved to tears and moved to action. Let’s change our minds. Let’s roam school our babies and raise them up around the world. Let’s not fall into bitterness and playing the victim. Let’s be done with small-minded, lopsided pursuits. Let’s binge watch Stranger Things then get rid of Netflix. Let’s spend more time chasing Josh and wrestling Addie. Let’s do Zumba together and make out at a silent disco. Let’s read more books and write the words down and memorize them. Let’s move to Grand Rapids or Albuquerque or Fort Collins or all of the above. Let’s go to a kook church and bring the Kingdom to Earth. Let’s do it together, with our people. We belong to each other. I love you, I’m yours in 2017 and forever.