For the Morning

There’s a stillness in the air that lingers as the sun creeps over the tops of the mountains.  An uneasiness begins to take the streets as the sound of doors opening pierce the silence of the morning. Feet begin to shuffle in the dirt and the soft murmur of voices enter as though a gentle wave were lapping upon the shore.

Sweet Jesus, what was it like to hear these noises, to see the light enter the cell? What it must have been like to know of the duty that had to be fulfilled in the next couple of hours.  Crippled with fear, but seized by bravery and driven by passion, Your time had come.

I want to be like You, sweet and Holy One. I want to go to The Father and beg Him to save me.  I want to wake up knowing that even though the trials of my day cannot be surpassed, He still saves me. I want my fears to be a waning thing and strength to be at the forefront — despite my emotions, despite my desires, despite my everyday longings. I want to do His will.  

Please Jesus, lead me to the Will of Our Father.  

Our Father….

St. Michael…

For the Midday 

Lord, I am exhausted. I try to reap the benefits of this week, but obstacles continue to get in the way.  Distractions keep me from focusing on Your greatest sacrifice. I want to be present as You make Your way to Calvary. I want to trust Your promise of a new day, but fear and distrust cripple my whole heart. O what desire You must feel for me to be attentive. O what ache You must be experiencing knowing that I am distracted as You walk. I am sorry, Lord.

The bottom of Your cross makes an indent as it drags across the sand. I watch as it makes a path for me and despite my sorrow, I decide to follow. I follow You up to where they will put You to death. There’s a stillness in the air and yet a dense weight, causing many around to cave. I want to remain firm under this weight. I want to remain steadfast as You offer Your life for me.

Startled, I hear You cry out that You commend Your Spirit to The Father. I watch Your eyes close as Your face falls to Your chest.

(Pause for 5 minutes of silence to reflect)

Quiet my spirit, O Lord. It stirs with sorrow and yet there is stagnation. Help me to receive Your sacrifice of Love as a free gift of self, not a measurement, not demanding anything in return.  Please Lord, help me to love as You love.

For the Evening

Evenings seem to be the most difficult, the most painful. Heartbreak is exacerbated and the aches of sickness intensify. Despite knowing that The Father’s Will has been fulfilled, I cannot help but to feel sorrow.

Lord, help me with the evening. Still my heart and my mind. Remind me of the promise of Your resurrection, of the rebuilding of the temple. Amidst my overthinking and self-relying doubt, enlighten me with truth and hope for the morning, a new day, and a renewed promise.

Come into my heart, Dear Jesus. Rest well in its space. Free up any coils that tie me down to fear of death and release me from any lie that I believe. You, O merciful Savior have conquered the grave. You, O tender Spirit have loved me well.