Home » Sister Alma Rose Prays the Lord’s Prayer

Sister Alma Rose Prays the Lord’s Prayer

Father-Mother, One Creator,

Source of Everlasting Bliss,

Constant Breath of Inspiration,

which, to take, is to inhale

the sweet, pure innocence of Heaven:

 

Reluctant must we be to call on you by name, as if we might,

by naming, circumscribe your mystery, when all that is

required — to know enough, for now — is to reach out and touch the hem of Glory as it passes by.

 

Until the day we see you face to face, and understanding dawns,

sufficient for the hour is Grace; and may we know by faith that to

accept abundance, pouring-out of love, is to embrace the wealth

of spirit, joy unmerited and favor, our inheritance unearned.

 

O Ancient Ones, ye saints and angels blessed with intimate acquaintance with the Holy One, and not as we must be, unseeing, blinded by the sun that takes
possession of the visible, that we might

know it merely by reflection:

 

Guide us when we cannot read

the signs that mark the homeward pathways;

steer us toward the single

destination; give us patience for

the waiting; turn our hearts toward those,

our fellow travelers, who fail

to notice that the way itself is

studded with the riches of the

holy realm. And when we are

diverted by a pretty road that

leads to nowhere, show us what small

treasure it conceals, some

baguettelle that serves as currency,

to trade in time for greater wealth, not

to be hoarded; we are meant to

travel light, I know; for if we

show what tokens we have gathered,

as if they had native value,

not derived from holy purpose,

some will steal them, some deceived as

we have been. Then should we not

forgive, and pity victims of

deception, lured, like us, by dim and

useless radiance, inconstant

light, as if a firefly could

show us what might lie

around the turning?

 

Your true light, alone, O God, burns

to illuminate and not

devour, and such as we would find in

it is everlasting. Keep us

fast upon the guarded path,

impervious to fervent summons

called in ignorance, or fear,

or malice. Teach us, God, to hear

your voice amid the shrill or subtle

sound and fury. Every choice

creates a future—never, though,

beyond redeeming. Shall we suffer

needlessly, inflicting pain,

deflected from our calling, kept from

Heaven by the specious gleam

of something stolen from a cave,

believing it will save our souls? Or

shall we seek—instead of gold, and

pleasure for an hour—

enlightenment, eternal glory,

Spirit’s treasure, perfect power?

 

Amen.

 

 

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