bird feeder prayer

God, good morning.

Giver

Universal 

Cosmic 

All-creating 

All-encompassing 

Creative God.

God of grandeur, God of detail.

Aware God.

Protective God.

God who sees.

God who loves.

Observant God.

Lighter of the spark.

God who rouses.

Patient...

but passionate God.

God of times and seasons.

Animator of the grand universal flow.

and in no less detail or attention,

the flow of the blood and hormones

of each soul--

homeless, 

deep in illness

prostitute, hardened criminal,

child with cerebral palsy.

me.

Shepherd of each little sheep.

each puppy.

each infant.

each bird that crowds around the feeder.

whose idea was it that we plant and load a feeder

with seed, or to give us a feeder?

behind all of it, it must have been

and still is

YOU.

Maybe we are to load the feeder daily

to remind ourselves that You care about

the least little sparrow.

and You feed them.

through us or not.

they will be cared for.

the eyes of all wait upon Thee

(whether they know it or not)

and You give everything in its proper time

Author of peace

Generator of joy.

Easer of sorrow

humble kneeler down to serve

foot washer.

God of mysteries

and unsolvable riddles

Keeper of secrets of the universe

God of the great engine room

that powers all orbits and movement of galaxies

seasons and heartbeats

climates in good order

and climates in disarray

the God of patience and repair.

of planets

ecosystems

countries

families

and

human bodies

souls

the eyes of all wait upon Thee

even though some turn away and cannot look

because Your light is too bright

God who reaches

exerts

feels

longs

moves

grieves

shouts

weeps

regrets

sighs

picks up the pieces

God who stoops down to serve

cleans and washes

salves, restores

rebuilds

renews seasons

souls

unbreaks hearts

restores pulse

normalizes breathing

God who established weather patterns

who heaves deep sighs when we mess with them

God who rebuilds after the disaster

God who closes down summer

eases us with autumn

hardens the ground and grays the skies in winter

wakes us in spring

You are beyond description

there are not enough days or terrabytes

to capture even a microbe of who You are to us.

so silence is often our preferred communication

wonder is in our brains

and thanks is in our humbled hearts

thanks.