God who knows loss,
We long for the presence of those we’ve lost – the sound of their voice, their laughter, the way their face moved. A longing so deep, it is difficult to articulate. Keep it from consuming us.
Protect our grief from the grip of despair and guide us into the kind of reembrace that leads to healing and a clarity of self.
Keep watch, too, over those of us who endure the complexity of losing the imperfect – those who both loved us and have hurt us.
Keep us from that cheap form of remembrance that reduced those we’ve loved into faultless, polished, uncomplicated caricatures. Let us recall them in the fullness of their humanity.
And as we behold their passing into your arms, into the arm of the ancestors, may some portion of their peace find its way to us. Amen
*Black Liturgies by Cole Arthur Riley