I don’t remember the first time I received a blessing, nor when I first offered one myself. I only know that, looking back, the giving and receiving of blessings have been with me from before I could even talk. Somewhere along the way, I came to understand that blessings can always be asked for and should never be withheld from being given to others.
Blessings are words we offer to share goodness and hope.
In the life of faith, blessings anchor ancient practices to our current lives. In our Lutheran tradition, at baptism we hear the pastor say: Stir up in this child the gift of your Holy Spirit: the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, the spirit of joy in your presence, both now and forever.
Following communion, we hear: May the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ strengthen you and keep you in his peace.
Before a sermon, the preacher offers a blessing: May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, Lord.
In our homes, we offer blessings for meals and transitions: Come, Lord Jesus, be our guest, and let these gifts to us be blessed.
We bless at bedtime for a peaceful night’s rest, inviting the Lord to watch over us as we sleep and wake. We bless with words and also with our hands by making the sign of the cross or placing our hands on shoulders.
Blessings are words that can comfort or convict, delight and surprise, renew and sustain. They are real words that meet real people in their real day-to-day lives. A blessing doesn’t sugarcoat the truth to make it more palatable. Blessings have grit and grace, they know how beautiful and terrifying the world can be. But the blessing binds us together precisely so we can face the challenges ahead. So we can link arms and walk hand in hand through heartache, loss, a diagnosis, changing relationships or an unsettled heart. A blessing grabs your hands, looks you in the eyes and says: “You are not alone.”
My book is a collection of blessings that are meant to share God’s presence with you, as they meet you in your real life—your everyday, nitty-gritty, down-in-the-dirt, dishes-piled-in-the-sink, appointment-scheduling, carpool-waiting, caring-for-family-and-friends life. Your life as it is. In all the joys and challenges. In the moments when you’d rather stay inside, block out the news and retreat with only your family. In the hours you spend putting one tired foot in front of the other.
As you experience the season of Lent, may the following blessing help you center yourself in the stories of God’s love and redemption. Remember that as you honor this Lenten season, you are also joining a host of others marking this time.
Receive this blessing.
God of mystery and wisdom,
be with us this Lenten season.
The way has been long, already
sickness, worry, isolation, fear, waiting—
our hearts are heavy,
our souls are exhausted,
our bodies are hurting,
our hope is wavering,
yet, you are with us.
God of mystery and wisdom,
be with us this Lenten season.
Show us your grace
in the small moments of silence,
the prayers offered,
the kindness of a stranger,
the lighting of a candle,
the listening to a friend,
you are with us.
God of mystery and wisdom,
be with us this Lenten season.
Settle our hearts,
revive our spirits,
increase our faith,
spread our love.
God of mystery and wisdom,
be with us this Lenten season.
In ashes and dust,
reading and listening,
wandering and walking,
praying and singing,
eating and fasting,
show us the way forward.
God of mystery and wisdom,
be with us this Lenten season.
As we walk to the cross,
keep our eyes fixed
on you and your love,
caring for others,
crossing boundaries,
reaching out to the poor,
taking our pain,
transforming death into life
over and over again.
God of mystery and wisdom,
be with us this Lenten season.
This modified excerpt from Kimberly Knowle-Zeller’s Small Steps: Blessings to Lift Your Soul on the Pilgrimage of Life (Morehouse Publishing; release date May 5) is reprinted with permission.