O God of help and healing, hold your hand above our hearts that we may open ourselves to you in confession. Relationships scratch and bruise. The years creak and moan as phantoms in the night. We confess the trap of culture. The old blocks the new.
Roots impede the wind-born seeds.
We confess the press of expectation. We must keep our own council. We must fear the cry to share. We confess the power of your Spirit in the saints. You speak through unforgettable people.