Tom-me, God — a prayer

Tom-me, God.

Invite my hands to your side
pierced with the sorrow
of the world,
pierced with the despair
of your children,
pierced with grief
and suffering and injustice.

Touch me,
and let me touch you –
my hands hole and holy
to be your hands,
my feet hole and holy
to walk your way.

Tom-me, God.

I thank you
for my unbelief
every time a child is in pain,
and ask you to shake
my belief
when it grows complacent,
creed-proud, booth-busy
on the mountain.

Let me be the one healed
by spit and mud,
and not by centurion-approved
remote control.

Tom-me, God.

I offer you myself,
like some long-lost twin
of your disciple —
tattooed with all my doubts,
and dressed in the
ragged courage

of a touch-hungry faith,
for I love
and live among a people
desperate for clinging.

( John 20: 24-29 and Mark 8:5, 24, John 9:6, Luke 7:10, John 20:19)

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