Until it is Fully Grown.

Faithful One,

Believing is nothing new to us. Or at least we would like to believe it is so.

We converse so easily about what we believe, claiming doctrines and theologies as our own sacred property. Yet we find that our belief statements and the mantras of our faith do not live up to their rightly-named selves in our lives, holding little of belief, little of faith.

We, like our mother Sarai, find ourselves believing You are holding out on us. We see you asking from us the cruel joke of faith. And like her aged womb, our faith us dried up too.

We, like our father Abram, find it easier to do nothing. Because doing implies action. And action has always required faith.

We, like our sister Hagar, can’t see you in this desert place. We find ourselves far from home. Running from our own pain with complications swelling in our bellies.

We have been utterly faithless.

So would You come, Faithful One? Would come, come here and now and in this place?
Come birth this narrative within us. Cause the truth of Your grand story to swell like the abdomens of these our preceding mothers.

Until it is fully grown, we pray in the name of Your rebirthing Son, even Jesus.

Amen.