A Little Time to Pray
(“Been in the storm so long. Give me a little time to pray”—African American spiritual)
I’m talking to God a lot these days.
My winter windows are showing grey slate sky, the color of metal.
And here we are in a hard rain. Some of us are in the eye of the storm, some are riding a tsunami; some have passed over.
Making bread, adding yeast, kneading, waiting for the rise.
Maybe this waiting time is our praying time.
The Book tells us You will restore our souls. That the kingdom is like a woman baking bread. There’s so much that needs to be restored.
I add the yeast and wait for the magic to happen.
Check my kitchen clock.
Wonder why the woman in the Bible had three measures of leaven, always three?
Lord, show us how to rise.
Waiting brings up all kinds of prayers these days.
Waiting for the rise. It’s time.
Help us to make more hope than fear, more love than despair. Teach us to gentle ourselves, to rise again, like trust, like faith, like truth, like love.
Raining hard now. Storm warning coming through my radio.
Maybe this waiting is a gift, maybe it’s a time for healing, to re-member our souls, to be done with loving death, and start working the rise?
It’s time to put some heat on this.
Maybe it’s our chance to make life sweet again like fresh bread with melted butter.
© Linda Beatrice Brown