You Have the Helm
(A Prayer for faith, during Covid isolation)
Someone said, “You have the helm.”
I must navigate this ship alone.
I stand in isolation, watching.
The vast waters are silent, empty of answers.
While I do so love the ocean, it can also be an enemy,
lapping at the hull, reminding me of yesterday.
The moon rises and reflections of light ripple for miles.
Morning will bring that golden shimmer I can taste and share with no one.
“You have the helm,” echoes off the wind.
Through the edges of my loneliness I pray that I might drop my anchor, or return to land;
I ask at least the memory that God is here.
Is there an angel somewhere on the water looking for me through this airy stillness?
If I could catch her song would she lead me into port? Would she meet me, would she turn the wheel with me when the whirlwind comes?
I pray some beauty, some company of angels, I pray it down the corridor of stars.
And so I hear again, “You have the helm.”
And then I ask for patience as I wait for you, Sweet Mother;
I ask that you do come again, if only in our heartbeats, if only in our tears,
and that You put the voice of prudence in our ears,
that we may hear You
through this oh so human clamor, that we might hold onto that current, that sound, that One Note that You are,
that we might, through our unrelenting fears, our loss of faith, our anger, and our doubt,
recognize the soundings of Your truth. Yes, we have the helm, but You indeed are Home and You will get us there, where we will sing again, “My soul’s been
in the Lord.”
© Linda Beatrice Brown