Earlier the flames roared,
But now the old roots lie
Smouldering.
In their death throes the stark beauty of the
Upturned roots
Makes me pause.
I ask the question:
What caused the death of this tree?
Old age?
Storm?
Disease?
I do not know.
Yet I do know its ashes will
Lend nutrients to the earth
To which it returns.
Yet again I am reminded,
Most Gracious Lord,
That nothing ever goes to waste.
Not really.
The wonder of your creation
Is that recycling is inbuilt.
But I look again and see,
Within the smouldering ash,
A tiny spark,
Clear and clean.
I am reminded that,
However dull and smokey
Life may seem to be,
Yet the spark of Your Love,
Precious Saviour,
Warms and renews each soul,
Even in death.
This is the time of the year
When we remember:
Remember past wars,
And then regret
That war still
Devastates the earth.
We pray for pity
For the refugee and fleeing exile,
For humanity to wake
And think again.
To contemplate the cost
Of pride and vanity
And grieve the loss of every life.
Teach us, Father,
That we must turn to you
In life;
But that,
In our departing
We can trust that you will
Come to meet each one and
Call us Home.
We pray for comfort and for hope;
Amen.
Reading. John 11:1-44
STF. 612. God give us life,when all around spells death
Prayers for November written by Hazel Parsons
