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Reflection

Mary, mother of all the living and the departed, 
raise us up to sit with you in glory.  


Raise up the fallen:
the families fleeing their homes in war, 
the lives lost in conflict and terrorism, 
their loved ones keening the senseless deaths, 
the infrastructure that lies smashed and useless. 

Mary, mother of all the living and the departed, 
raise us up to sit with you in glory.  

Bind up the broken:
the woman in hospital with cancer,
the man drinking alone in his shabby bedsit, 
the baby born critically ill, 
the child looking after her siblings after her parents have died from AIDS. 

Mary, mother of all the living and the departed, 
raise us up to sit with you in glory.  

Lift up the weary:
the mothers exhausted from carrying their babies in the food queues, 
the fathers without energy to bury one more of the dead, 
the asylum seekers running out of time, 
the campaigners worn out from picketing earth and heaven, 
and we who are weary of all our praying and calling for change, 
who still have the power to change things;
some things, if not all things. 

Mary, mother of all the living and the departed, 
raise us up to sit with you in glory.  


- Adapted from Nicola Slee, The Book of Mary

- Artist: Stephen B. Whatley

Posted in: Reflection



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