Photo by M. Kate Allen While on retreat with St. Augustine's Church this weekend, adults were invited to pray with an icon. One of the mothers there had just commented that my daughter, Miriam, certainly qualified as an icon. So I prayed with Miriam, allowing God to behold me through her. I gave voice to my encounter in this way:
We are Godparents.
We are God's parents.
God is our child.
On the seventh day she rested because she was exhausted. She needed rest.
God needs the safety of our arms. God needs our vigilant care and protection.
God would die without us.
God grows up in our midst.
We have a critical role to play in God's destiny.
God is a child and we are her parents. Without our constant attention, she suffers.
We are her caregiver. She needs us to survive.
We are the parents of God, and she loves us implicitly.
May we never betray her love.
Our excuses not to care for her will burst like old wineskins.
She trusts that we will give her all she needs. She trusts that we will be there when she awakes. She trusts that if we put her in the arms of another, that that other will care for her just as well.
We are God's parents and we would die for her.
Her radiant smile stops time in an eternal, brilliant moment.
We feed her with good things.
We love God, for she is our own daughter, wonderfully made in our image.
Her voice causes us to laugh, dance, and run.
Her smile melts our chill anger.
Her cries alert us.
We listen when she calls.
Listen, o mother, give ear to My words.
We are Godparents.
We are God's parents.
God is our child.
On the seventh day she rested because she was exhausted. She needed rest.
God needs the safety of our arms. God needs our vigilant care and protection.
God would die without us.
God grows up in our midst.
We have a critical role to play in God's destiny.
God is a child and we are her parents. Without our constant attention, she suffers.
We are her caregiver. She needs us to survive.
We are the parents of God, and she loves us implicitly.
May we never betray her love.
Our excuses not to care for her will burst like old wineskins.
She trusts that we will give her all she needs. She trusts that we will be there when she awakes. She trusts that if we put her in the arms of another, that that other will care for her just as well.
We are God's parents and we would die for her.
Her radiant smile stops time in an eternal, brilliant moment.
We feed her with good things.
We love God, for she is our own daughter, wonderfully made in our image.
Her voice causes us to laugh, dance, and run.
Her smile melts our chill anger.
Her cries alert us.
We listen when she calls.
Listen, o mother, give ear to My words.
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