a blessing for when you don’t feel fulfilled anymore

God, I will wake up today and move,
into each new hour.

I will fill my lungs with the air
of an undone, unfinished,
never-before-seen day,
entirely certain of how I will feel
when it ends:

God, even my best efforts—
my sacrificial love, my diligent work—
don’t stir up anything
like the rush of accomplishment.
Whatever felt like meaning
isn’t meaningful anymore.
At least not today.

One minute, I want to change everything.
And the next I want to crawl back into bed.
(But, if I’m honest, how much of my actual
day-to-day life could I change,
even if I wanted to?)

Lord, this is the simplest prayer:
make it matter again.
Color my grayscale vision
with every shade of meaning.
Blues and purples and lilacs for purpose.
Reds and pinks for every kind of love.
Yellows for insights and ideas that sparkle.

And if once-cherished dreams need to fade,
let them fade.
Let me not imagine
that each one of my plans
must glue my future together.

Surprise me.
(I regret saying that already.)
But let me come alive to the wonder
of this day.