Lord, give us hearts as children.
As we come to you, we humble ourselves in your presence, Creator God. As the lightning cracks and the green of summer starts to fade into the yellows and reds of fall, we know that we are simply not in control of this world. Forgive us the hubris of imagining that we can control you or your creation, and give us hearts of children, delighting in the puddles of autumn, wide-eyed at the explosion of color, exploring every vein as we pick up one of your leaves and examine your handiwork. May we have hearts of hope and joy to see every part of your Creation, from the fluffy white clouds, to the guy at the stop sign who turned without signaling. May whatever – and whomever – we see turn our hearts to delight, as you give us hearts as children.
Lord, give us minds as wise as Solomon.
In the legacy of the one who asked for wisdom above all other gifts, may we indeed seek after your wisdom and your face, instead of the trinkets of this world. May we be wise in the ways that we steward your resources. May we be wise in the ways that we go about our vocations – from school, to our jobs, to our volunteering in retirement. May we be wise in the decisions that we make as individuals, families, and as a church. Lord, give us minds of wisdom.
Lord, give us the hands and feet of Christ.
Many of us look down at our aging hands, and on down to our tired and sometimes stumbling feet, and wonder what you would want with these. Help us to see that whatever the world needs, you gift your church to provide through those imperfect hands and feet. Remind us to roll up our sleeves when we need be, shake the dust off our feet when called to, and not be afraid to get a little dirt under our nails to help the least of these. As we welcome, worship, work, and wonder, keep us driven toward your work, and not our own.