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Tuesday, February 1, 2011

A Prayer for Ordinate Love

Lord I ask that you would help me love thee.
I would love thee for thy sake alone.
Lord thou art great, yes, and good, but it is purely for thy sake
         That I would love thee, this is the prayer of my heart.
Lord I would love thee as thou art
In thy peculiarity as Father
My safety and home
As Son, the lover
My Passion and Reward
As Spirit, the life giver
My Sustainer and guard
I would love thee. 

With room for naught else  
       There is no universe that can contain thee
       How can my heart love thee if aught exists in me but thee
       Any firmity but thy touch
       Any air but thy breath
     Any sun but thy visage 
Lord I ask that my thoughts be thy intentions
        And dreams, thy recollections

In loving thee only I find my life, my order and my serenity. 
Thy smiling face is every breath,
My brightness
My flank
My voice and sturdy hand

For the wife that thou hast given, that I have chosen 
I pray that I might love her from the overflow of thy wounds
And adoring her countenance in thine
Thy love overflows
I pray my touch may become thine, and Hers mine.  
       Together we celebrate thee. 
In you there is true Home, Life, and Glory

I thank thee for Children, my bright Sons, and beautiful daughters,
They are the Congregation that is wholly mine.
I saw them sweet and tender looking in your eyes.
Emboldened in thy love I pray, for them
And for myself, as I lay myself down to earnestly die
But you resurrect me in their faces, wet and warm
I hold in my arms Thy love formed. 

I pray for my Children, Sisters, Sons, and Brothers.   
In watching for your face I found my Fathers and Mothers. 
I ask for grace for these, thy least of these. Your beloveds.  
This is the Congregation that is Holy and Thine
I cling to thy heart and cross 
To find the grace for practice and discipline
I find grace to live and die for one and another
In thy church we feed
       From your hands we sup our need, and we know
We are each thy favorite and best.
Thine Only.

My hands are at the plow My Beloved, yet the Curse bites back at me  
Lord I reach for thee with pierced and calloused hands. 
Is there any tenderness left?
I work that my right Hand may not know or see 
       What You are doing. 
But the very Finger of God works in those who Love You
       Who are called to.
  He stirs my heart. 
            He holds me up,
            He drowns me in thy forgiveness and favor. 
            He is thy seed me in me.  
Lord let my eyes and my brethren’s see through yours
In your Favor Lord there is more than enough. 
            All poor, all spent.
            But we are all full from thee!

Although the day is spent and I am last, You are faithful to me my Father
You have made me first and best.
It is the truth that in the overflow You will Love me too
No one can come to shame for whom You have bled. 
Not even me. 

Lord it would be presumption, if it wasn’t faith. 
For Saints, for Doctors, for me
       I pray when my Day is done
Let my Rest be thy Bosom.
My Robe and Ring, thy Arm, thy gnarled Hands
My Crown, thy Beard.
I pray that I would love thy heart so fully, 
that I not lift my face
From thee, even in eternity

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