Thursday, December 29, 2005

Walking With Job 

sometimes it seems we are walking with Job,
sitting down, scraping our sores
in the misery of overwhelming events and sorrows.
Help us, Lord,
when we need to scream
and to rant
and to beat our fist against the wall,
our heads against the floor,
and the dawn seems too far away to wait.
O Lord,
it is at that moment, I pray,
that you will wrap your loving arms around us,
cover us with your wings,
hold us tight as we sob,
or scream
or beat our hands against your embrace,
and when we catch our breaths,
that the wood of your cross is not smooth,
that the weight is heavy,
and the road is hard,
but by following you through the dark of that sad day,
by knowing that this hard road is our link to your passion,
like you, we will come at last into the rest and peace you have promised us.


Susan E. Stone, 2005

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O Lady of consolation,
Mother of sorrow,
I come to you,
like so many mothers before
grief struck,
in pain.
You know how it works,
with your experienced, motherly, heavenly eye,
as our babies grow into adults.
Watching the transformation
has been such a painful thing,
O Mother of sorrows,
as my child shot up,
like a reed, a weed,
from curious, open, clever child,
tow haired and bright eyed,
to sullen adult
who has done everything just right
to be unhappy,
looking everywhere but where he should
to fill that gap in his heart.

Remembering my youth
so long ago,
when it was my turn to be the sullen child,
no doubt the cause of my mother's anxieties,
a burden to her heart,
I have hopes
he will choose the light.
It can be such a hard road to find, Blessed Mother,
even with you,
the angels and saints
and your Son working, praying to lead us on.
I fear,
like so many mothers before me
that he will not last long enough to reach that point
where his heart opens up,
I fear he will get caught in the snares of his own hand,
and stumble into that night forever.

My golden haired boy,
I weep for you,
not in anger
for the little wrongs you have done,
the small thefts,
the stupid decisions,
the drinking,
the lies,
but for the small child who stole my heart
so long ago,
motherless and so in need,
little boy lost
who I will never see again,
child of promise that I could not protect,
could not truly heal,
must needs let go
to find his own path,
his own way,
even as watching
pierces my heart with its own sword,
the fate of mothers.
O Mother of Sorrows,
I come to you with my burdened heart,
my fears,
my griefs,
for I know you understand.
Like David weeping for Absalom,
I kneel on the ground,
heart breaking for love,
for evil I cannot prevent,
for choices not mine to make.

O Blessed Mother,
How well you know the pain
of watching something
you were unable to stop,
and knew the taste of the grief filling your heart.
Pray for us,
O holy Mother of God,
all the mothers,
and all the fathers, too,
watching helpless and in grief
while their children suffer
from these self-inflicted wounds.

O Lord,
Hold these children in your hands,
send your angels to watch over their steps,
and in the end,
may they find their way to you.


Susan E. Stone, 2005


Prayer for the Grieving 

O Lord,
You who know our pain,
how it hurts
when we grieve,
who walks with us
even in the darkest moment,
be with those this day who are grieving,
during the time ahead,
as they say farewell,
as they remember.
Keep them all especially in the palm of your hand,
under your wing,
and give them the peace
that can only come from you,
this day,
and always,
in the name of Jesus,

Susan E. Stone, 2005


Wednesday, December 28, 2005


O Jesus,
you know how true it is -
from dust we are made.

Shaper of that dust
when human time began,
wearer of that dust
when the time of your emptying came,
and you chose to walk among us.

Amazing how much pain
that dust can contain,
so much darkness,
so much sin,
so much blood,
so much despair.

Amazing how much light
that dust can contain,
even God made flesh,

Fill us with your light,
O Shaper,
O Wearer,
O Redeemer,
and in your loving hands, O Lord,
may each touch of your light
upon our lives
turn us into the people
you choose to bring home.


Susan E. Stone, 2005

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Setting Sun 

In this moment between moments, when I see what I have done
In this pausing, as if to catch my breath, while I watch the setting sun,
A lacuna in the quiet,as my race in nearly run
Some things I leave with sad regret, for others there is none.

Pain and sorrow, loss and gain, the human road goes on,
More good I hope I leave behind than pain when I am gone,
A word or two I've woven well, a dream of golden dawn
God's hand upon the lost and lone when hope feels all withdrawn.

Soon shall this race be finished and my road will cease to climb
And then I'll wake in that fair morn that is not bound by time,
And the words that I have gathered will grow there more sublime
Where my clumsy tongue, unbounded, will find a truer rhyme.

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Monday, December 26, 2005

I see thee, little child in your mother's lap.
In you the impossible has come to be,
Creator enters creation and takes a nap
As mother you did make sings lullaby to thee.

Susan E. Stone, 2005


The fire in his eye
was like a beacon,
and his face glowed
with a love they did not understand,
these angry young men
with rocks in their hands,
insulted by a light they did not want to understand.

And he talked,
and the tension heightened
and the circle around him tightened,
and the murmuring
broke out into yells,
and he moved into that new reality
and he knew the path
and he realized the way
and he said yes in his heart
to his master's call
and he looked up,
and the love he had,
and the love of his Master
transcended time and place,
and Heaven called him home,
opening wide its gates,
and Jesus beckoned.

No one remembers
who threw the first stone.

But we all remember
how Stephen taught us
how much the love of God was worth.

Susan E. Stone, 2005


The fulgent star called them on,
these wanderers,
wise in their learning,
who knew that something amazing was begun.

Star of wonder,
did the light of a baby's eyes
and a mother's smile
fill their hearts as the saw the end of their quest?

Wisdom touched by God
is wisdom indeed.
The Magi, looking at what they sought,
perhaps contemplated how the things that change the world
can start simply with the birth of a child.

not in the sky,
but here, in Mary's arms,
shattering the darkness
the child of promise
Creator become creation,
Love that would shatter the night.

Susan E. Stone, 2005

Sunday, December 25, 2005



That which was from the beginning
In the beginning was the Word
By the word of the Lord the heavens were made
And God said
By his breath the host of heaven


The Word that goes forth from God's mouth
We declare unto you the life, the eternal life which was with the Father
it shall not return to him empty.


The name he is called by is the Word of God

et Verbum erat apud Deum
And the Word was with God
Behold his glory
In him was life, and the life was the light of men
The only Begotten
et Deus erat Verbum
And the Word was God

And every knee shall bow


Verbum caro factum est et habitavit in nobis.

Susan E. Stone, 2005

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