...now...and at the hour of my death...

a cool change
not more than 72 degrees on these clear cool days in the middle of july

a blanket as I prayed on the front porch swing this morning
a blanket where we drove to lie in the sun this afternoon

watching the hearts in the clouds
dissipate and float by
unable to hold on to their beauty and glory

willing for the first time in a long time
to stop clinging in fear
to what is here and now
to let go of the next thirty years

and to entertain eternity once again


"talking about prayer does not matter
rather only the words that we ourselves say to God

and one must say these words oneself

they can be quiet
poor
and diffident
they can rise up to God's heaven like silver doves from a happy heart
or they can be the inaudible flowing of bitter tears
they cab be great and sublime like thunder that crashes in the high mountains
or diffident like the shy confession of a first love

if only they come from the heart

if they only might come from the heart
and if only the Spirit of God prays them together also

then God hears them
then He will forget none of them
then He will keep the words in His heart because one cannot forget the words of love

and then He will listen to us patiently
even blissfully
an entire life long
until we are through talking
until we have spoken out our entire life

and then He will say one sing word of love
but He is this word itself

and then our heart will stop beating
at this word
for eternity"
         Karl Rahner
             The Need and the Blessing of Prayer

when I pray
"...now...and at the hour of our death..."
I pray...
in gratitude for Mary's knowledge of my final hour
I imagine her praying with intent the final hour before my last breath
and praying me safely through it and beyond it
because
I do not know it...
and will probably never know it

or maybe she is praying the hour after my final breath?!?

either or
she is praying...now...
and at the hour of my death

not only does the Father
my Father
who breathed life into me
and lives with His eye upon me from heaven...
and longs for me to join Him there
...know me
not only does Jesus who abides in me
...know me
not only does the Spirit...who searches the world over
who moans and groans within me with intercession
...who knows my very own singular heart
...know me

but she too...must know me
for she prays for me

now...and at the hour of my death