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LORD OF ALL
HOPEFULNESS
Lord of all
hopefulness, Lord of all joy,
whose trust,
ever child-like, no cares could destroy:
be there at our
waking, and give us, we pray,
your bliss in
our hearts, Lord, at the break of the day.
Lord of all
eagerness, Lord of all faith,
Whose strong
hands were skilled at the plane and the lathe:
be there at our
labors, and give us, we pray,
your strength in
our hearts, Lord at the noon of the day.
Lord of all
kindliness, Lord of all grace,
your hands swift
to welcome, your arms to embrace:
be there at our
homing, and give us, we pray,
your love in our
hearts, Lord, at the eve of the day.
Lord of all
gentleness, Lord of all calm,
whose voice is
contentment, whose presence is balm:
be there at our
sleeping, and give us, we pray,
your peace in
our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day.
Text: Jan Struther,
1901-1953
Used by permission.
© 1931 Oxford University Press
.When I was a sophomore in high school, I got a job as a disc jockey,
working from 6 a.m. to noon on Sunday mornings. I took the job to
get out of going to church.
Once confirmed, teenagers become an endangered species in church and
I was no exception. I didn’t like the high school Sunday school
teacher, and I thought the youth parent-leaders were hypocrites.
Singing hymns left them stuck in my head all day, and I didn’t even
like those songs!
So for two years, I worked as a DJ. I played pop music for two
hours, and then Casey’s Top 40 from 8 a.m. to noon. Every 20
minutes, I did the weather report as “Jenna Jordan.” I was the only
female on-air personality, so I also got to ride on parade floats,
judge Halloween contests and dress up as the station mascot.
But I also got to get up at 5 a.m. And go to work in a building with
questionable heat. And use a bathroom that six men had used all
week. And I missed Easter morning with my family
—
twice.
One Easter, my mom left an Easter basket in my car. I was so excited
to eat jelly beans, I fumbled to open the bag while walking into
work. The beans flew everywhere! Not to waste my Easter treat, I
crawled around in the parking space, picking up the candy. I was
17, on my knees, in a chilly pre-dawn street, thinking “Happy Easter
to me.”
I
realized that the sacrifices I made to get away from church were
successful
— in making me miss it! I soon resigned my
position and eventually made it back to a pew on Sunday morning.
Lord, give us the strength to run
toward you and not away. Forgive us for not always seeking you.
Remind us with gentleness that you are always with us.
Jennifer Worrel
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