This is, as I wrote yesterday, a work in progress by Christine Valters Paintner and I do not know who sent it to me, but this is the second part.
Blessed are the ministers and therapists of every kind, bringing words of comfort.
Blessed are the ones whose jobs are lost, who have no savings, who feel fear of the unknown grnawing.
Blessed are those in grief especially who mourn alone; and blessed are those who have passed into the Great Night.
Praise for the police and firefighters, paramedics, and all who work to keep us safe, praise for all the workers and caregivers of every kind.
Praise for the sound of notifications, messages from friends reaching across the distances, give thanks for laughter and kindness.
Praise be our four-footed companions, with no forethought or anxiety, responding only in love.
Praise for the seas and rivers, and forests and stones who teach us to endure.
Give thanks for your ancestors, for the wars and plagues they endured and survived, their resistence is in your bones, your blood.
Blessed is the water that flows over our hands and the soap that helps keep them clean, each time a baptism.
Praise every moment of stillness and silence, so new voices can be heard, praise the chance at slowness.
Praise be the birds who continue to sing the sky awake each day; praise for the primrose poking yellow petals from dark earth.
Blessed is the air clearing overhead so one day we can breathe deeply again.
Ane when this has passed, may we say that love spread more quickly that any virus ever could, may we say this was not just an ending but also a place to begin.
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