This morning I was looking over some Advent writing I had done in years past and stumbled upon these prayers I wrote 4 years ago today, during the first Sunday of Advent during COVIDTIDE, 2020 back when I was hosting 15 minute Advent Vespers services on Instagram live from my little apartment each week.
In Western North Carolina we are recovering from the devastation brought brought by Hurricane Helene. These are almost exactly my prayers as so many are still sleeping in tents and it's 23° this morning. Thanks for praying with me.
I know that feeling. We're is south asheville and very fortunate. When I saw Biltmore Village a few days after, I couldnt stop crying. I'm still crying when I realize how much damage and loss of life there was.
During the next four year shit-show, I pray we don't loss sight God is still watching over us and there are folks out there that care about you and me!
“Taking turns with grief.” I’ve had a lot of loss in my life, and this little piece struck me. I am so grateful for the in-between times - those times when grief is distant and I experience plain old joy. I love my life so much! Thank you God for the in-betweens.
In no particular order, these are my prayers for today:
- Prayers of gratitude and thanksgiving for my new nephew, born two days before Thanksgiving.
- Prayers of celebration for my friend as we celebrate her 40th birthday today
- Prayers of comfort for a sponsee who has just heard the news that her sister, whom she's tried so hard to help, is going to have to enter hospice with cirrhosis of the liver.
- Prayers for all the people entering this holiday season as the "first" in a new chapter: the first as parents, the first as a couple, the first without someone they love, their first since the divorce, their first in their new home, their first since being baptized, their first since deciding to leave a community or relationship or church, their first sober, and all the other firsts we forget are a big deal until we encounter them.
- Prayers for all the people entering this holiday season as the "last" in a chapter: Their last before the kid leaves for college next year, their last in their current home, their last before they go back to school, their last in a bad marriage, their last with an aging loved one, their last before they change careers, their last before they move to a new town, and all the other lasts we don't know are our last.
Ack! What a throwback for me...my partner and I had just moved to Denver for a midlife adventure, but Covid had other plans for us. What a weird time of both silliness and deathly seriousness. We would look at each other and our Great Dane, Dave, and say...well...want to go for a walk in the neighborhood? A hike on Green Mountain? A drive into the mountains? Our jobs were on hold, our friends and family were 1000 miles away, and the news was too terrifying to believe. Our 950 square foot apartment was home now, and we waved to new neighbors from 20 feet away. That was when I discovered Substack and you, though, so there were positives. As for today and our current challenges, my prayer is that there is enough Love in the world to smother the hate. Peace to all.
This is Exactly Perfect. I am grateful for your light in the world! "Gossamer thread in a divine needle that connects us!" This image will stay with me!
Thank you for this. I’m currently spending a night in a hotel with my husband. It’s 5 am and the next room is having a rather loud gathering. Thank you for reminding me to pray.
Yesterday, I got a beautiful tattoo of a Christmas tree topped by a bright star. I am more than slightly onbsessed with all things Christmas, but more than that, I wanted a permanent symbol of the striving for hope. My prayer is to find the strength within to persevere in the belief that hope will see us through. Of course, my fierce side is prepared to battle the "forces of wickedness" and ride that broom for as long as I am able, hope notwithstanding!
Covid prayers. Oh yes, I prayed back then. I tested positive in March 2020, along with two dozen others in a prison dorm. We slept within inches of each other. When I exhaled, my neighbors inhaled my fumes. We used to joke, "Everything I have is yours." All 24 of us were moved to another building, placed in isolation in another dorm. Meanwhile, everyone else in the original building were tested - all 300 of them - and all but a handful tested positive. We 24 were moved back to that building and it was placed under quarantine. We were locked in together. Eventually, five of the six buildings housing inmates were quarantined, all positive for the virus. Huge tents were erected to house those who'd tested negative or who had recovered - many of whom had lingering symptoms or other ailments.
This was before vaccines were available. The clinic and its staff were overwhelmed. Many inmates were sent to outside hospitals and placed on ventilators, their arms and legs shackled to the beds. By the time vaccines were available, misinformation was spreading as rapidly as the disease, and many inmates refused to take the shots. Thirteen people died of Covid while I was there, including three close friends.
All programs were shut down: chapel, education, library, recreation, visitation, everything. No "remote" or "virtual" anything. We were allowed to go outside to walk or sit for 30 minutes at a time twice a week, while the inmates in the other buildings were locked inside. Strangely, we were required to wear masks when we were outside, but not inside.
For months on end, every single evening, our dinner was a bologna sandwich, a bag of chips, a banana (or sometimes an apple), and a can of soda. Breakfast and lunch were similarly monotonous. Boredom in prison is always a challenge; now it was a powder keg, where small annoyances could erupt into violence at any moment.
Such was the situation during Advent, 2020. In many ways, the levels of tension and misery were not unlike (but much milder than) the way things were in Palestine in the First Century CE - or the way things are in much of the world today.
Praying, for me, was often through clenched teeth. I reminded myself that we were eating better, had better accommodations, and had better medical care than most of the people on this planet. It was a challenge to pray for surly correctional officers who were breathing the same air, surrounded by hostility, and trying to keep themselves and the rest of us safe.
Often, I forced myself to say the words, to thank God for blessings, to pray for peace near and far. And quite often I told God that I wasn't sure I meant what I was praying.
Now I'm in the "free world," on probation, estranged from many loved ones because of the consequences of my crime (not theirs). I find it easier to pray. I've been given the gift of perspective. I know how it feels to be alone on Thanksgiving. Although I was defrocked years ago, I have something of a ministry with people who deal with addiction and who are re-entering the world after incarceration. One of the greatest gifts for that ministry is that I am one of them. They encourage me.
Oh, I get angry and frustrated. Like many, I was devastated by the results of the election. Yet there is something different about me today. I seek to do "the next right thing" rather than obsessing about the outcome. I align myself with those who want to make life better for the most vulnerable people among us. And I am experiencing a level of serenity I never would have thought possible. And I'm inexpressibly grateful.
Oh Richard, I'm so glad I didn't miss this comment. Thank you for the time and care you took in posting it. COVID was most especially horrific for those inside. I would record sermons from my apartment onto my iphone which would then be seen inside the women's prison - it was all we could do which was so frustrating, knowing about the further isolation and lack of good food, socialization, education and rec the women were suffering. This first person account is a helpful reminder to us all. Blessings on your ministry to those coming out of prison. May it flourish. And may you as well. Sending love, Nadia
I pray for … have to think on this as prayer is not a process I have experience in ; not convinced that it works (He hears us, but He does not intervene). But to the desire that I will find in it what more devout people do … , here goes ;
I pray that a physically and emotional demanding move will go smoothly, and on time.
I pray that this will be the year that my new love and I will be together.
I pray that the dissolution of my old relationship will be in the least hurtful way.
I pray that my immediate and extended family will not ostracize me for following my heart to that soulmate I have desired all my life, and finally found (I have rarely followed my heart, always my head).
I pray that the Lord will forgive the hurt that I will surely cause, and yet still find favor in this new relationship (a bridge too far ?)
I pray that I will find solace in prayer like so many others ; that I can just pray.
Oh my gosh, I remember this. Nadia, I was so sick then - I was one of those sick with covid - thank you for praying for me! And when that illness hung around, starting to become a chronic condition, a sermon you preached on repentance and metanoia convinced me to be brave and try a recovery programme - which transformed my mind and my health. I am a fruit of that Instagram prayer Labour of love (plus the grace of God, obvs) - thanks!
Good morning, and thank you for sharing these memories and this prayer. Yesterday, when I was thinking that I should just enclose something like a few Valium with our Christmas cards this year, I remembered that we have a 100% survival rate of bad days. That's a helpful thought most of the time, but not when I remember that lots of people didn't survive the COVID battle or the Blitz or millions of other crises, personal and global, that have visited us. So, I like your prayers on all of this. I'll keep it handy for the days when I get too wrapped up in myself. Sending big hugs and much gratitude. ❤️❤️❤️
In Western North Carolina we are recovering from the devastation brought brought by Hurricane Helene. These are almost exactly my prayers as so many are still sleeping in tents and it's 23° this morning. Thanks for praying with me.
Hi Judy! I live in WNC too! I live in south Asheville. These are my prayers too!
We live outside Weaverville. We were incredibly lucky, but a recent drive to Swannanoa brought tears.
I know that feeling. We're is south asheville and very fortunate. When I saw Biltmore Village a few days after, I couldnt stop crying. I'm still crying when I realize how much damage and loss of life there was.
During the next four year shit-show, I pray we don't loss sight God is still watching over us and there are folks out there that care about you and me!
“Taking turns with grief.” I’ve had a lot of loss in my life, and this little piece struck me. I am so grateful for the in-between times - those times when grief is distant and I experience plain old joy. I love my life so much! Thank you God for the in-betweens.
In no particular order, these are my prayers for today:
- Prayers of gratitude and thanksgiving for my new nephew, born two days before Thanksgiving.
- Prayers of celebration for my friend as we celebrate her 40th birthday today
- Prayers of comfort for a sponsee who has just heard the news that her sister, whom she's tried so hard to help, is going to have to enter hospice with cirrhosis of the liver.
- Prayers for all the people entering this holiday season as the "first" in a new chapter: the first as parents, the first as a couple, the first without someone they love, their first since the divorce, their first in their new home, their first since being baptized, their first since deciding to leave a community or relationship or church, their first sober, and all the other firsts we forget are a big deal until we encounter them.
- Prayers for all the people entering this holiday season as the "last" in a chapter: Their last before the kid leaves for college next year, their last in their current home, their last before they go back to school, their last in a bad marriage, their last with an aging loved one, their last before they change careers, their last before they move to a new town, and all the other lasts we don't know are our last.
these are lovely and relatable. thank you for posting them!
Thank you Bee for reminding me of the firsts and the lasts!
Ack! What a throwback for me...my partner and I had just moved to Denver for a midlife adventure, but Covid had other plans for us. What a weird time of both silliness and deathly seriousness. We would look at each other and our Great Dane, Dave, and say...well...want to go for a walk in the neighborhood? A hike on Green Mountain? A drive into the mountains? Our jobs were on hold, our friends and family were 1000 miles away, and the news was too terrifying to believe. Our 950 square foot apartment was home now, and we waved to new neighbors from 20 feet away. That was when I discovered Substack and you, though, so there were positives. As for today and our current challenges, my prayer is that there is enough Love in the world to smother the hate. Peace to all.
I was often up hiking on Green Mountain too!
May there be “…enough Love in the world to smother the hate.” Exactly this.
Living small is always a good idea. My dad used to always tell me: hon, tend your own garden first
This is Exactly Perfect. I am grateful for your light in the world! "Gossamer thread in a divine needle that connects us!" This image will stay with me!
"Prayer is a path where there is none." --Noah benShea. I remember those days too... almost feeling same these days.
Thank you for this. I’m currently spending a night in a hotel with my husband. It’s 5 am and the next room is having a rather loud gathering. Thank you for reminding me to pray.
Yesterday, I got a beautiful tattoo of a Christmas tree topped by a bright star. I am more than slightly onbsessed with all things Christmas, but more than that, I wanted a permanent symbol of the striving for hope. My prayer is to find the strength within to persevere in the belief that hope will see us through. Of course, my fierce side is prepared to battle the "forces of wickedness" and ride that broom for as long as I am able, hope notwithstanding!
post a pic in our chat!
Can't quite figure out how to post a photo; however I'm very happy with how my tattoo looks!
Covid prayers. Oh yes, I prayed back then. I tested positive in March 2020, along with two dozen others in a prison dorm. We slept within inches of each other. When I exhaled, my neighbors inhaled my fumes. We used to joke, "Everything I have is yours." All 24 of us were moved to another building, placed in isolation in another dorm. Meanwhile, everyone else in the original building were tested - all 300 of them - and all but a handful tested positive. We 24 were moved back to that building and it was placed under quarantine. We were locked in together. Eventually, five of the six buildings housing inmates were quarantined, all positive for the virus. Huge tents were erected to house those who'd tested negative or who had recovered - many of whom had lingering symptoms or other ailments.
This was before vaccines were available. The clinic and its staff were overwhelmed. Many inmates were sent to outside hospitals and placed on ventilators, their arms and legs shackled to the beds. By the time vaccines were available, misinformation was spreading as rapidly as the disease, and many inmates refused to take the shots. Thirteen people died of Covid while I was there, including three close friends.
All programs were shut down: chapel, education, library, recreation, visitation, everything. No "remote" or "virtual" anything. We were allowed to go outside to walk or sit for 30 minutes at a time twice a week, while the inmates in the other buildings were locked inside. Strangely, we were required to wear masks when we were outside, but not inside.
For months on end, every single evening, our dinner was a bologna sandwich, a bag of chips, a banana (or sometimes an apple), and a can of soda. Breakfast and lunch were similarly monotonous. Boredom in prison is always a challenge; now it was a powder keg, where small annoyances could erupt into violence at any moment.
Such was the situation during Advent, 2020. In many ways, the levels of tension and misery were not unlike (but much milder than) the way things were in Palestine in the First Century CE - or the way things are in much of the world today.
Praying, for me, was often through clenched teeth. I reminded myself that we were eating better, had better accommodations, and had better medical care than most of the people on this planet. It was a challenge to pray for surly correctional officers who were breathing the same air, surrounded by hostility, and trying to keep themselves and the rest of us safe.
Often, I forced myself to say the words, to thank God for blessings, to pray for peace near and far. And quite often I told God that I wasn't sure I meant what I was praying.
Now I'm in the "free world," on probation, estranged from many loved ones because of the consequences of my crime (not theirs). I find it easier to pray. I've been given the gift of perspective. I know how it feels to be alone on Thanksgiving. Although I was defrocked years ago, I have something of a ministry with people who deal with addiction and who are re-entering the world after incarceration. One of the greatest gifts for that ministry is that I am one of them. They encourage me.
Oh, I get angry and frustrated. Like many, I was devastated by the results of the election. Yet there is something different about me today. I seek to do "the next right thing" rather than obsessing about the outcome. I align myself with those who want to make life better for the most vulnerable people among us. And I am experiencing a level of serenity I never would have thought possible. And I'm inexpressibly grateful.
Oh Richard, I'm so glad I didn't miss this comment. Thank you for the time and care you took in posting it. COVID was most especially horrific for those inside. I would record sermons from my apartment onto my iphone which would then be seen inside the women's prison - it was all we could do which was so frustrating, knowing about the further isolation and lack of good food, socialization, education and rec the women were suffering. This first person account is a helpful reminder to us all. Blessings on your ministry to those coming out of prison. May it flourish. And may you as well. Sending love, Nadia
I pray for … have to think on this as prayer is not a process I have experience in ; not convinced that it works (He hears us, but He does not intervene). But to the desire that I will find in it what more devout people do … , here goes ;
I pray that a physically and emotional demanding move will go smoothly, and on time.
I pray that this will be the year that my new love and I will be together.
I pray that the dissolution of my old relationship will be in the least hurtful way.
I pray that my immediate and extended family will not ostracize me for following my heart to that soulmate I have desired all my life, and finally found (I have rarely followed my heart, always my head).
I pray that the Lord will forgive the hurt that I will surely cause, and yet still find favor in this new relationship (a bridge too far ?)
I pray that I will find solace in prayer like so many others ; that I can just pray.
Thank you. Exactly what I needed this 1st day of Advent.
Yes, i know, I am greedy and selfish, but I would like for my stupid-ass colon to stop acting up.
Yes!
Love you Chuck.
Oh my gosh, I remember this. Nadia, I was so sick then - I was one of those sick with covid - thank you for praying for me! And when that illness hung around, starting to become a chronic condition, a sermon you preached on repentance and metanoia convinced me to be brave and try a recovery programme - which transformed my mind and my health. I am a fruit of that Instagram prayer Labour of love (plus the grace of God, obvs) - thanks!
So glad you're here Esther!
Good morning, and thank you for sharing these memories and this prayer. Yesterday, when I was thinking that I should just enclose something like a few Valium with our Christmas cards this year, I remembered that we have a 100% survival rate of bad days. That's a helpful thought most of the time, but not when I remember that lots of people didn't survive the COVID battle or the Blitz or millions of other crises, personal and global, that have visited us. So, I like your prayers on all of this. I'll keep it handy for the days when I get too wrapped up in myself. Sending big hugs and much gratitude. ❤️❤️❤️