HEAL OUR HEARTS
Broken hearts and broken spirits, lives devoid of all delight
sit around our kitchen table, interrupt our sleep at night.
All the words of love unspoken, all the wounds we have incurred,
all the hurt we have inflicted, wait for Love’s redeeming word.
Heal our hearts, O Wounded Healer.
Everything we’ve ever done,
hold within your Healing Spirit.
Heal us all, O Healing One.
When we break the ties that bind us to our family, to a friend,
when we know what was forever will be coming to an end,
when relationships we’ve severed leave a vacuum wide and deep,
when we’re haunted by the broken promises we could not keep:
Villages and teeming cities suffer from the wounds of war.
When revenge is all that matters, tombstones are for keeping score.
Violence violates our children. Surely, there’s a better way.
For the healing of the nations and the children, let us pray:
Pristine waterways polluted, open spaces overrun,
forests felled, their trees uprooted, grasslands burning in the sun.
Daily, species face extinction. As they fall into the void:
one by one, a hope extinguished; one by one, a dream destroyed.
Miriam Therese Winter
© Medical Mission Sisters 1999
Angels, silently, wisdom unfurled,
watching carefully over our world,
helping, hovering, guarding and guiding:
thin the veil covering angels abiding.
Angels, unawares, into their keep,
take our many cares, rock them to sleep;
whisper, lovingly, words beyond knowing;
sing of eternity, guiding our growing.
Angels do begin songs that we sing,
nurture hope within till it takes wing;
link our destiny to one another,
trusting we too will be angels to others.
Angels, drawing near while we’re asleep,
beckon, "enter here into the deep,"
transform all regrets and empty scheming.
Their sacred silhouettes dance through our dreaming.
Angels, when we wake, come, one by one,
tasks to undertake till day is done.
Feel their tender care, masked though their form be.
Angels are everywhere. Welcome them warmly.
Angels we will see robed in shalom,
come to accompany our spirit home;
come to set us free, our last endeavor,
so that we too may be angels forever.
Miriam Therese Winter
© Medical Mission Sisters 1994
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