Imaginative God,
when the world was still on the brink of beginning,
you gathered clay from the ground and created us in your image.
You filled us with your life-giving Spirit,
gifting us with breath and an ever-present connection to you,
and you set us in a garden full of life that we might delight in all that you had created.
But we are not always good at delighting,
Holy God.
We are good at problem solving,
at praying,
at worrying,
at seeing all that is still in need.
We skip skies awash in color in favor of news programs filled with the ills of the world.
We delegate delighting to those who aren’t old enough or smart enough to know better.
We work too hard, know too much, care too deeply to allow delight to distract us from the deep distress we know exists around the world.
So startle us,
playful God.
Astonish us,
surprise us,
catch us off guard and overwhelm us with the beauty and gifts that surround us.
Help us to stand still long enough to notice the absurd and astounding aspects of your creation—
bugs that baffle the imagination,
flowers whose colors and textures and sheer variety embarrass our expectations,
the gifts of giggles,
and the sheer perfection that is the snort of laughter.
Even as we remember those people and places in need of your love and comfort,
help us to see all the ways in which you continue to reach into our world through the hands and feet off those who care.
And on this Memorial Day Weekend,
as we remember those who served and never came home,
help us to celebrate the gifts they gave—
their willingness to stand in the breach,
their sacrifice when the need was great,
their care for the lives and well-being of others.
And help us to work for a world where such sacrifices are no longer necessary.
All of this we lift up to you in the name of Jesus,
who knew what it was to delight,
Amen.
