when I consider all the people and places
and problems on my list today,
I wonder how you expect us to manage anything.
We know too much,
hear so much instant bad news
and so little of the slower-traveling reasons for hope.
Fixing things takes so much effort.
Why repair when we can throw away?
Why work at understanding when we can silo with those who agree,
enjoying our digital segregation?
O my God.
I am guilty of this, because I have another list.
On it are the people who frustrate me,
the ones who cannot see what I clearly know is true,
the ones who disagree with *my* beliefs about you,
about your world and your people.
O, dear God.
I am praying for people of color at risk
in a world where we idolize whiteness.
I am praying for non-binary people
whose families don’t “get” their pronouns.
I am praying for trans people
who just want to pee and wash their hands.
I am praying for anyone trying to pass
because it’s dangerous to be who they are.
O, my God,
help me to make another list,
with ruthless honesty,
of my own prejudices,
and previously unconscious
but painfully revealed sins
and against others.
Thank you for second chances,
and third and ninety-ninth.
Thank you that even though
it is late,
it is not too late
to do better,
if we mean it,
to get it right
with your help.