Bits And Pieces

 

Bits and Pieces



' and those whom 

we have forgotten,

do Thou, O Lord,

remember…’

 

Bits and Pieces.

This and That.

Frayed Edges.

It would be good to believe that Wednesdays were calm and seamless days.

Especially around 11 o’clock.

That’s the time set aside in the parish mid-week to pray for all of the things that are to be prayed for.

It’s supposed to be a setting time.

Lists are sent to a few others of those asking for support in prayer; there are those who also have quietly committed to settle on a Wednesday into their prayers too.

And when we are able to physically meet, it’s often the day for a mid-week celebration of the Holy Communion, and the week-day set aside during Lent and Advent when we gather for worship.

 

I had great plans for Wednesdays. 11am would be the time.

Perhaps I would even go to church and say the prayers there.

Perhaps toll the bell as a reminder of ongoing prayer.

 

Not on this Wednesday. No. I have the image of a mother hen fixing her nest, adjusting the straw, turning some eggs, and settling herself in for the long wait. We could mention Jesus’ words recording by St Matthew, as He looked over the needs of His people and capital city:

‘“Jerusalem, Jerusalem! She who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her.

How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, yet you were not willing!’

 I wonder if Jesus ever struggled to settle into the work of sitting and brooding and waiting on the work of God?

 Not on this Wednesday.

Settle I could not.

Fresh coffee.

Lists ready.

Names in mind.

Prayer book at hand.

I suppose it’s a little like waiting for sleep.

But settle into prayer I would not. Settle I could not.

 Sometimes I bring to mind the advice given by another; when calm and settled prayer is not at hand, then settle into the room you are in; settle into the chair, into your place, pay attention to where you are, and how you are. And be thankful.

 As I tried to settle in, I noticed the small olive wood carving brought home from Bethlehem, and remembered before God the person who made it, and my brothers and sisters in another place.

I noticed the magazine sent from SAMS, the South American Mission Society, and remembered the words from my sister in Christ who has finished her time after several decades, working in Paraguay.

 I noticed the photo of my sons which sits on my desk, and prayed for them, and my own home and family.

I saw my prayer book, and the small bookmark made from Donegal wool, and embroidered with a golden crown, to remind me of The King of Kings. And especially I remembered the lovely lady who made it, who shared her faith with me, so early on, and who now has gone on to Christ.

 And so many other bits and pieces that morning. The handmade card by the Archdeacon of Derry, the small ceramic pot made by Anne McNulty in Enniskillen, the wool bag crocheted as a gift from my wife. A brass instrument mouthpiece. A small willow basket.  A poster sent as a gift from Knit, Pray, Love. A postcard from an older Christian lady, bearing the words of Psalm 121.

A page torn from a water colour book, on the day I attended a class.

 All individuals with their own skills and abilities, sharing them with me and with others,

making our lives what they are.

They might look like bits and pieces, but on that Wednesday I remembered the people,

and the kindness and the gift.

 I found myself being thankful for the journey shared and the memories they hold.

I had settled. And went on with the work I had gathered there to do.

 And to the names in that day, I added others, and those who had asked for our prayers.

And in those lovely words from the prayer of the Eastern Church,

 

‘and those whom we have forgotten, do Thou, O Lord, remember…’

Book Of Common Prayer p151

 

Prayer is not an exact science.

Sometimes it is easier than others.

Sometimes we have only our intention to pray, and our hopes.

At times, it is possible only to sit there quietly, in the presence of the Father who loves us.

And when it is not easy, when it is only the bits and pieces, the frayed edges, the fragments, then we remember the God in whose keeping we always are.

We draw near to the One who remembers all that we forget.

We are upheld by the One who broods over us.

We settle.

Amen.

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