Holy Sender, sending Creation into Being, send strength for the brutes and wolves have been sent into the fields to play as well. Amen.
God, who strolls in the garden and in the desert, who walks the sea and down from the mountaintop, who dares to become human out of curiosity and who dwells in our midst where we are gathered, sometimes your steps are so wide apart that our all-too-human strides stumble and trip trying to keep up with the latest demands of our own interpretation of your holy ways. Pick us up and dust us off once again and as many times as is needed so we may more than dream but yearn to walk with you. Amen.
God of fruits that feed and nourish, God of dangers that puncture and cut, light the porches of well-being; for while you hand out treats in places we find so hard to discover, we seek the tricks of promises for an easy eternity, looking in the fields of fortune for the harvests of fame. Amen.
Hidden God, beyond the horizon, underneath the nearest stone, behind the turn of the earth, within the veins of dropped leaves; we turn and turn again and you spin around us with yourself; come into our lives with things that do not need to be observed for our attention wanders and the shiny has replaced the simple. Amen.
Creator of wealth and wages, sustaining living, feeding multitudes, giving everything, withholding nothing; make us see enough for all as the only way for each of us to have enough; for we say, Give us this day our daily bread, grumbling, while hoarders hoard, spenders spend, treasures trove, and demand grows. Amen.
God who wanted to know God, crying out into the Void, "IAM," needing company, how can you need and we, your creation, not need? Our daily bread is just that, daily bread. A dollar can only be stretched so far before being ripped apart. The need of the brutes makes so many even more needy. Dare we ask for more, God? God, can you give more? For need, our need, is part of the fabric of your way. Amen.