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Today’s text
I appeal to you
therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies
as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual
worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing
of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and
acceptable and perfect.
A holy presentation
Monday, I sat in the chair by her bed and prayed. From time
to time, I think she heard me from far away … in the world of sleep, a land
suspended between life and the Life into which we go.
I wanted her to hear the words of assurance and peace, words
of blessing and yes, of regret, that her life was not what she wanted … and was
ending too soon.
I wanted to bless her and for her to hear and know it fully.
I wanted her to know the Love that fills you when you sit beside the dying soul
for whom you wanted so much more--certainly more life … but also enough love to
heal the inner wounds you could not mend.
So I presented her to you, Loving God. My prayer hovered
above her bed, barely penetrating her consciousness as I offered her to you …
offered myself, too.
I was there, praying, speaking, blessing--marking her head
with oil in the sign of the cross, the hope of the wounded and broken.
Even if she could little hear or respond, words of grace flowed
from my soul to surround and embrace her, as I offered her back to you, a holy
presentation of a life you love, a life that has long hungered and cried out
for the healing only you can give.
Nurses came and sheepishly backed out the door, not wanting
to interrupt. I wonder … did I look foolish, speaking prayers and blessings to
someone who may have heard almost nothing of what was said?
There is a time I would have cared about the answer to that
question. No more.
It is not just that I know that you hear, Holy One.
No, I have come to see that all that matters … all that
matters … is the speaking, the blessing, the grace. Once grace is released
into any room--however empty or full, whether heard or not--everything is
changed and charged with the Presence of the Love who heals what we cannot.
So we sat there, embraced by grace long after the final
echoes of my words faded into silence, the two of us, a holy sacrifice presented
to you.
So sad, yet … it was perfect. Because of you.
Pr. David L. Miller
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