Ek lees graag vandag ’n gebed en refleksie van Padraig O Tuama, ’n Ierse digter en teoloog:
Neither I nor the poets I love have found the keys to the kingdom of prayer and we cannot force God to stumble over us where we sit. But I know that it’s a good idea to sit anyway. So every morning, I kneel, waiting, making friends with the habit of listening, hoping that I’m being listened to. There, I greet God in my own disorder. I say hello to my chaos, my unmade decisions, my unmade bed, my desire and my trouble. I say hello to distraction and privilege, I greet the day and I greet my beloved and bewildering Jesus. I recognize and greet my burdens, my luck, my controlled and uncontrollable story.
I greet my untold story, my unfolding story, my unloved body and my own body. I greet the things I think will happen and say hello to everything I do not know about the day . I greet my own small world and I hope that I can meet the bigger world that day. I greet my story and hope that I can forget my story during the day and I hope that I can hear some stories and greet some surprising stories during the long day ahead. I greet God, and I greet the God who is more God than the God I greet.