The tear works its wonders,
emotions run out,
a cleansing drop.  

What’s to difficult to keep wrapped up inside
floods on the cheeks,
why do we hide?

Cause the world says it weak,
but maybe the world’s wrong,
and the tears should be free
to come along.

To be part of the story that our experience yields
to nurture the corners of our heartbroken fields.

                                              Rev. Nicole Martin

Dear Lord, on Thanksgiving Day,  it is traditional to “be Happy”  to celebrate all good things that have come our way.  But two shooting sprees have left families on their knees.  Their worlds erased by needless hate. Their gatherings, plus so many others, will not feel the same, look the same, or be the same.  From the homeless folk, to the full hospital bed, from anxiety driven ‘tween the blue and the red. Help us take time in the midst of our celebrations to cry with our neighbors, to sit with them in silence as they might need.  We ask this in than name of a loving savior, Jesus the Christ, who could celebrate with the best, and in the midst of it all, help others find rest.   Amen.  

Psalm 63: 1-4
 O God, you are my God, I seek you,
    my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
    as in a dry and weary land where there is not water.
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
    beholding your power and glory.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
    my lips will praise you.
So I will bless you as long as I live,
    I will lift up my hands and call on your name.