Today is February 11^th, Caedmon’s day. So in honor of the day I thought I would share Caedmon’s prayer from the book, Celtic Daily Prayer. It is a prayer about become a voice for those who have no voice, a prayer about committing to solidarity with the poor and disadvantaged. It is an appropriate prayer for Lent.

Caedmon’s Prayer

I cannot speak, unless You loose my tongue; I only stammer, and I speak uncertainly; but if You touch my mouth, my Lord, then I will sing the story of Your wonders!

Teach me to hear that story, through each person, to cradle a sense of wonder in their life, to honour the hard-earned wisdom of their sufferings, to waken their joy that the King of all kings stoops down to wash their feet, and looking up into their face says, ‘I know – I understand.’

This world has become a world of broken dreams where dreamers are hard to find and friends are few.

Lord, be the gatherer of our dreams. You set the countless stars in place, and found room for each of them to shine. You listen for us in Your heaven-bright hall. Open our mouths to tell our tales of wonder.

Teach us again the greatest story ever: the One who made the worlds became a little, helpless child, then grew to be a carpenter with deep, far-seeing eyes.

In time, the Carpenter began to travel, in every village challenging the people to leave behind their selfish ways, be washed in living water, and let God be their King.

The ordinary people crowded round Him, frightened to miss a word that He was speaking, bringing their friends, their children, all the sick and tired, so everyone could meet Him, everyone be touched and given life.

Some religious people were embarrassed - they did not like the company He kept, and never knew just what He would do next.

He said: ‘How dare you wrap God up in good behaviour and tell the poor that they should be like you? How can you live at ease with riches and success, while those I love go hungry and are oppressed? It really is for such a time as this that I was given breath.’

His words were dangerous, not safe or tidy.

In secret His opponents said: ‘It surely would be better that one person die.’ ‘I think that would be better, if he could.’ Expediency would be the very death of Him. He died because they thought it might be good.

You died that we might be forgiven, Lord; but that was not the end. You plundered death, and made its jail-house shudder - strode into life to meet Your startled friends.

I have a dream that all the world will meet You, and know you, Jesus, in Your living power, that someday soon all people everywhere will hear Your story, and hear it in a way they understand.

I cannot speak, unless You loose my tongue; I only stammer, and I speak uncertainly; but if You touch my mouth, my Lord, then I will sing the story of Your wonders!

So many who have heard forget to tell the story.

Here am I, my Jesus: teach me.

 Rejoicing in the journey - Beth Stedman