There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. I Cor. 12:4-6
Lord, in our morning prayer we recall your resurrection: may the hope of glory illuminate our entire day.
Pain
No new attempt at apology here:
All suffer, though few suffer anything
like what they deserve.
Still, there are the famous undeserving
whose pain astonishes even the most
unflinching disciples
whose own days have been consumed by hopeless
explanation for that innocent whose torn
face or weeping burns
or ravenous disease says simply no,
not good enough. This is where we must begin:
incommensurate
pain, nothing you can hope to finger
into exposition, nothing you can
cover up. A fault
—unacceptable and broad as life—gapes
at your feet, and the thin soil you stand
upon is giving way.