Do not be afraid, your angels proclaimed to those shaking shepherds,

and you whisper the same, generation after generation,

to us.

But disease ravages our world,

heartbreak turns commonplace,

and nameless grief settles deep in our bones.

Is it any wonder we tremble so easily?

You remember that we are made of dust and breath,

and how our unnaturally natural tendency is to cower in the dark places of our minds,

pointing fingers at one another,

forgetting the shadow of safety you offer under your wings, wide enough to hold us all.

Our groaning is not hidden from you, O Holy Father.

Do not ignore our weeping cries

and quaking knees

and besieged hearts.

For you alone hold power to pull us from the miry pit,

the one from which fear has stolen our ladder.

How long, O God?

When will we see your goodness in the land of the living?

Remind us, Jesus, that you lay sleeping in the boat

in the middle of the storm at sea.

You are neither surprised nor distressed by the mounting chaos.

You are not a God who panics.

O Christ, who defeated the sting of death upon the cross, be near

and calm the sea within us with one word, so that we may then comfort others

with the same comfort you give to us.

Out of your lovingkindness you do not condemn our fear,

but rather call us into something far more magnificent:

wild, glorious trust in the One who holds the whole world together.

Amen.