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psalm of seasons
... a reflective liturgy, not of institution, but of quiet daily holiness.
Psalm of Autumn: The Letting Go
O God of rust and release,
You paint the world in surrender—
Leaves fall with more trust than we muster,
yet You gather each, without shame.
Teach me to love the loss as part of the harvest.
Response: We give thanks for what fades,
for what drifts, for what once bloomed.
We turn with open hands and call it grace.
Psalm of Winter: The Weight of Quiet
Lord of hush and hearth,
Speak now in whispers, if at all.
Let my coldness not be punishment but preparation.
Even the bare branch holds Your outline.
Even the silence hums with Your name.
Response: We do not fear the quiet,
for it contains Your breath.
We wrap the ache in scarves of trust and walk onward.
Psalm of Spring: The Arrival Without Announcement
You, God of soft astonishment—
You arrive clothed in lavender and light
where yesterday was dust.
Teach me to not force the bloom,
but to wait, watch, and wonder.
Let joy be like the blossom: brief, brave, enough.
Response: We open our windows to Your renewal.
We bless the unearned joy and meet it with folded hands.
We live like the petal— light, rooted, ready.
Psalm of Summer: The Slow Flame
O Lord of shade and swelter,
You who whisper in cicada pulses—
Teach me to rest beneath Your heat
and not mistake movement for meaning.
Let the fig tree speak without fruit, Let stillness be my worship.
Response: We receive the slow flame,
and offer our breath as incense.
We bless the pause,
and name the silence holy.
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