Monday, December 31, 2012

Prayer for a new year

Image from a stunning collection by Clare Benson

Standing on the threshold,
all we’ve left undone smirking in our periphery,
all we carry with us a finger’s breath away, waiting, waiting.
Unfinished business clings heavy, disappointment,
pressure, expectations straining at the seams.
And what we would love to step out of
and leave behind in an unwashed heap on the floor
abandoning on tipsy tiptoe, light and free.
It’s all right here, balanced, but barely,
on the threshold.

One day is pretty much the same as the last. 
Let’s not kid ourselves.
One day is completely new and
 altogether different.
Anything can happen.
We belong to you. 
(Pause and take it in.
It’s beyond taking in, really.
Just pause, then, as near the reality as you can stand
for as long as you can stand it).
Outside time, but
entering all olds and news,
permeating every yesterday
and each today, inhabiting already all
tomorrows, before they come upon us,
unannounced but right on schedule.
You. To whom
we belong.

Meet us here, Holy One, on this threshold.
Holding for us what was, carry us into what will be.
Drawing from strength we’ve been steadily building
throughout the years,
exhaling the rubbish we’ve been steadily breathing
throughout the years,
taking in instead the clean, the fresh
timeless promises and bracing hope,
sucking them deep into our lungs,
with mouths and hearts wide, thrown open,
featherless, and trusting,
filling our strong bodies
and sturdy dreams, awakening
with gentle possibility and mighty grace,
meet us on this threshold.

For the considerable stumbling we have ahead, grace.
For the remarkable triumphs yet to come, grace.
For the hot tears and searing pain before us, grace.
For the unrestrained laughter on the horizon, 
and the astonishing joy waiting 
around the corner, ready to spring, grace.

And to love.
Oh, to love.
(To You, Love, we belong, after all).
For this we pray.
In all things.  All people.  However
we might, faltering and
faithful, trembling and
tenacious, May we

For this, then, 
Holy Love, eternal, entered in You,
for the new year and all it holds,
for the past however it persists,
for love brimming over and unrelenting,
and for Us
each one, standing 
here on the threshold of
whatever may be,


 Kara Root 
December 31, 2012


  1. When fall the spangled bangles from their boughs
    Then know that Love requires this to be.
    And that which is for Love
    Shall never be for nought
    Though branch and trunk may fruitless seem to be;
    Though nailed as a target to a tree.

    One of mine, dear sister. For what I have done and what I have failed to do...I give thanks. Kelli

  2. Lovely, Kelli. And I love your last line - it has lived with me these past few days. For what I have done and what I have failed to do, I give thanks. Amen.

  3. I loved your piece on Storytelling as Sacrament in the Communitas publication out of Austin Seminary. Glad to have found your blog through that! Peace! Emily Owen (Pastor in NC)


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