I’ve been thinking about house blessings as Epiphany approaches and at the same time also imagining the coming year as a house—a space in time that is opening itself to all of us. How will we inhabit the coming year? How will we enter it with mindfulness and with intention? How will we move through the rooms of the coming months in a way that brings blessing to this world? I also have been pondering what it is to carry our gifts into this new year. Those gifts that God has given us and how we use those gifts, how we develop them. With these questions and starters for your own pondering, I offer this blessing for you and a second poem on gifts, both from Jan Richardson, one of my favorite devotional authors.
The Year as a House: A Blessing
Think of the year as a house: door flung wide in welcome,
threshold swept and waiting, a graced spaciousness
opening and offering itself to you.
Let it be blessed in every room.
Let it be hallowed in every corner.
Let every nook be a refuge
and every object set to holy use.
Let it be here that safety will rest.
Let it be here that health will make its home.
Let it be here that peace will show its face.
Let it be here that love will find its way.
Here let the weary come
let the aching come
let the lost come
let the sorrowing come.
Here let them find their rest
and let them find their soothing
and let them find their place
and let them find their delight.
And may it be in this house of a year
that the seasons will spin in beauty,
and may it be in these turning days
that time will spiral with joy.
And may it be that its rooms will fill
with ordinary grace
and light spill from every window
to welcome the stranger home.
Wherever you make your home, may it be blessed, and may you enter this Epiphany and the coming year in peace.
Epiphany Blessing
For Those Who Have Far to Travel If you could see the journey whole you might never undertake it; might never dare the first step that propels you from the place you have known toward the place you know not.
Call it one of the mercies of the road: that we see it only by stages as it opens before us, as it comes into our keeping step by single step.
There is nothing for it but to go and by our going take the vows the pilgrim takes:
to be faithful to the next step;
to rely on more than the map;
to heed the signposts of intuition and dream;
to follow the star that only you will recognize;
to keep an open eye for the wonders that attend the path;
to press on
beyond distractions beyond fatigue beyond what would tempt you from the way.
There are vows that only you will know; the secret promises for your particular path and the new ones you will need to make when the road is revealed by turns you could not have foreseen.
Keep them, break them, make them again: each promise becomes part of the path; each choice creates the road that will take you to the place where at last you will kneel to offer the gift most needed— the gift that only you can give— before turning to go home by another way.