| O cosmic Potter, Worker in Clay: You scooped up, kneaded, and shaped
the earth, the soil, the mud of our planet, and fashioned our bodies
from that primal clay. Weaver, Creator, in our mother’s wombs you
knitted us together and formed all our parts. We ponder with awe the
tiny fertile egg you lured to its safe rest inside our mother’s body;
the slow, painstaking care with which you multiplied our first few
pregnant cells, divided them out into skin and bone, nerves, vessels,
flesh, and from them shaped organs of every description within and
without. For the bodily beings you have made us, for the joy we gain
from moving, touching, tasting the whole array of life’s pleasures and
pains, for the meaning and purpose our brains discover for it all, for
the mysterious, ineffable touch of your faithful presence, smiling over
us, doting upon us, cheering us on, inviting us to the fullness of life’s
sweetness, providing us all that we need, we give you our thanks and
commit our bodies, our selves, to the life abundant in your name.
AMEN |