A Liturgy For Dying Well ATK22

Pam and I so thoroughly discussed all of the points in this liturgy for dying well, that I can literally hear these verses being read in the voice of Pam. This is a wonderful compilation of so many prayers we prayed together over the past year. I hope you can hear her in them too. It is from Every Moment Holy II

O Lord Who Ordained the Measure of My Days Before Time and Creation Began, let me finish well this brief race I have run.

In this season of reckoning my own mortality, may I meet you in each moment of sadness or regret; when dwelling in the long shadows cast by fear, let me take comfort in this bright thought: That even as I rightly lament all I stand to lose by dying- the longed-for days I will not live to share with those I love, the dreams I will at last release unrealized- that even so, O Lord, you in your wisdom and mercy did gift me more hours than were necessary for my heart to warm to your love, for my pride to crumble beneath the weight of your mercies, for my mind to be convinced that I am your dearly-loved child, and for hopes to grow firm-anchored in the promise of a new creation and of my own coming resurrection.

In light of these future glories, let me learn to trust you more fully with my present sorrows, that I might lean upon you in my remaining steps, Great Shepherd, more surely even than I leaned upon you in seasons past. Be in these days the comfort in my pain, the peace that quiets my fear, the consolation that speaks a better word than any grief or regret.

Though some will write off the remainder of my days as of no value, I know that you will not, else you would never have ordained that I should live them. Trusting your providence, I would not now dismiss them either.

For it is by your pleasure that I am still alive in this holy moment. That I still wake to love, hope, pray, feel, dream, grieve, and do the next thing and the next thing that must be done, so long as my strength allows.

Nothing true and eternal has changed simply because I received an unwelcome diagnosis. We have always been moving- even from our births- towards that approaching moment when life would be swallowed up in immortality.

So much as it is an act of will then, I would offer to you, moment-by-moment, O God, this final pilgrimage and every blessing and hardship that will attend it.

Though my body declines and I find myself beset by new pains, discomforts, and limitations, I am yet your servant as truly as ever, still your child, still a vessel of your dwelling Spirit, still a recipient and a conduit of your grace.

Redeem then these precious remaining days. Make of me what you will, even now, in this season of my dying. Shape me yet in whatever time is left. For this was always my best vocation: to grow into a truer and truer image-bearer of my God, learning to know you, trust you, love you more. My worth to you was never the measure of what I could do or accomplish by my own hand. All along, you passionately loved me as your child, delighting to lead me by your Spirit into closer and more constant communion with yourself.

And so my life will be no less significant in the moment I draw my last breath, than it was in the moment I drew my first. For each of those breaths- and all between- are set within the span you ordained for me to live and move and breathe in this body, in this world. All moments are equally fraught with your love, your wonder, your holiness, your purpose, however clouded and inscrutable such mystery might seem amidst the hurts and harms of a broken world.

So use even these days of hard experience, O Spirit of God, to further your sanctifying work in me. Convince me even more firmly of my great need, and of your great grace, of my own sin and weakness, and of your strength and forgiveness; of my utter helplessness, and of your merciful provision.

I once again entrust all things to you, Jesus. For you are the Captain of my passage through this storm. You are the King who leads me home from lonely exile. You are the Lover who embraces me in the midst of my grief. You are the Redeemer of all lost and broken things now yearning to be made new. Your mercies are everlasting and your promises are true.

You are the very Author of life, and the Conqueror of death, who has promised to remake this world, this sky, these gardens and cities and stars, and also, yes, my own failing flesh, raising it new and imperishable.

So seal my heart into that day, O Christ. So inhabit these holy spaces, these hardships and sorrows, this precious hope of glory.
So cradle me in my present frailties.
So commune with me in my grief.
So shepherd my passing.
So command my resurrection.

Amen

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