Liquid Prayer

I stood on the covered balcony of my apartment to watch closely the rain. Gradually, drizzle gave way to torrent. I remained, still watchful. From overhead gutter, bowed with age, rainwater careened as a fall.

I thought of the paradox of liquid. Its molecules move freely, yet never separate. It reminded me of my relation to the Divine. I am free to move about my life as I choose, yet can never be separate from my God. I know this to be so; yet, faulty thinking sometimes leads me to feeling disconnected. This was one of those times. This was the reason I had stepped outside, barefoot, because nature has a way of reminding me of the truth. I needed that now.

I leaned over the railing and reached out both hands, palms up, to touch the wetness. From my heart flowed forth this prayer:

Open me at the top, oh Lord, like a funnel ready for the pour. Allow your Spirit to spill over my soul. Let heaven’s rain drench me. Quench the thirst of my parched being. Oh, how I have longed for your nourishment. Wash over my guilty mind like cascading falls tumble over rock, softening the rough edges over time. Cleanse me of my mistaken shame. Speak loudly to me of my innocence like roaring waves speak of the tide. Remind me that the living water and I are One, ever undivided.

I wiped my wet hands on the back pockets of my jeans as I stepped away from the railing. Within moments, the rain tapered to a drizzle again. I went inside knowing that my prayer was like liquid—offered freely from my heart, yet never separate from it.

Be enlightened!  ~ M