From a prayer over the Lord's Table July 11, 2004
When the fireworks turn to debris on an open field of darkness, you burn brighter than the finale. More brilliant than any tungsten or incandescent light and off the Kelvin scale, you don't burn out. You're no flash in the pan, no shooting star, no trail of sparks. You shine, Jesus. You shine.
More sure is your light than the sunrise and more piercing is your white hot glow. You cut more accurately than a laser, more concentrated is your beam. Mere spotlights blind our eyes that you have made and we're reminded that we can't even stand our man-made lights much less your light, Lord. When we marvel at photos that light and chemicals make, remind us that you've given your creation the ability to see in billions of variations of light and color.
May we see, Father, not with our eyes but with our hearts that you've pierced with your laser. May we remember when Mars was another unreachable planet and we did not fool ourselves that we could somehow conquer the earth or planets. Recall for us how many gazillion planets remain unreached...and that you spoke them there...just as you spoke the words, "Let there be light."
Search us with your beam of holy radiant light and shed light for our feet that we may see beyond the headlight high beams, for we can see no farther than what is 100 feet in front of us...but perhaps that is all we can stand to see right now.
11:01:33 PM
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