God who died,
We are heavy with grief.
We’ve been promised freedom in the divine, but this wilderness reeks of death. The landscape is so thorny that we are beginning to feel nothing at all. We feel betrayed and confused and tired, God.
Please, not one more thing. Just let us live. Let us heal.
This, Lent, instill among us rituals of remembrance that allow space for rest and wailing.
Relieve any pressure we feel to resolve our pain before we’ve truly felt it.
And as we’re healing, grant us wisdom to know we don’t have to carry every sadness all at once.
Walk with us as we protect our minds and bodies from despair. Amen
*Black Liturgies by Cole Arthur Riley