My church
happens at home
in the middle of the night
with a fevering baby
in my arms.

I pray for strength.

My church
happens on the beach
when I see
through them
for the first time
what has been right in front of me
for a lifetime.

I pray for depth.

Their eyes are my eyes.
Their soul from mine;
their heart, my own.

I pray in gratitude.

My god is small enough
and big enough
to find me,
to live in them,
to allow
church to be everywhere
we love.

In the night,
as I wrap my arms around them,
I pray that
some god
and God
and some energy
and Energy
is behind me,
wrapping its arms
around me.
We are spoons
upon spoons
upon spoons.
All of us.

I pray
right back into those little bodies I hold,
for it is through them
I am most certain
I see god

  • Barbara Gaynor

    What a beautiful prayer.

    May 19, 2014 at 3:24 am
  • Your words are right on, again. I love your motherhood lens and your writing right now. You are in the trenches and your experience and words ring so true to toddlerhood, early motherhood. Keep at it because, believe it or not, it will morph and change and you just might forget some of this. Jot it down, share it – so that you can come back and revisit this time in your life through your writing. It’s a beautiful gift you are giving yourself and the world. xoxo

    May 19, 2014 at 3:11 pm
  • Abiola Ola

    This is beautiful and an apt description of what obtains with motherhood. With them, we do church everywhere, anywhere and anytime.

    You’re blessed as much as them, Annie.

    May 20, 2014 at 3:26 pm

Post a Comment