Categories: uncategorized
Date: 26 April 2006 16:52:49
Survivors service, intercessions/offering.
I bring this doll in memory of the children we were.
And also in memory of the child within us,
crying out for healing and love,
but trappen by fears and hurts.
We remember our innocence, our trust,
our complete dependance on other people.
And the times we were betrayed and abused.
Wounded healer, we offer you our hurts
Broken mender, make us whole.
I bring stickey plasters, and all the hurts they cannot heal
the wake-up-screaming nightmares and sleepless nights,
the fears that invade our waking moments
the memories that rattle round our heads day after day.
We remember the search for healing, and the empty hopes
The unanswered prayers, unfullfilled prophecies.
and wounds that all the sticky plasters in the world cannot heal.
Wounded healer, we offer you our hurts,
Broken mender, make us whole.
I bring a barbie doll, a symbol of unatainable perfection.
and all those who strugle with their bodies and images.
the guilt, the diets, the vicous circle.
The child who looks in the mirror and weeps.
We remember those with eating disorders,
all who look at themselves with hate
and anyone who tries to counter the lies with truth.
Wounded healer, we offer you our hurts,
Broken mender, make us whole.
I bring this candle, I acknowlege the darkness
The long nights of solitude and despair
The grief and tears at an unspeakable loss
and the numbness that seeps over all we do.
We remember the isolation, the fear of the dark
the bright neon smiles we hid behind,
The desparate prayers for hope and light.
Wounded healer, we offer you our hurts
Broken mender, make us whole.
I bring a calendar, showing the past and the future.
Our hopes, our fears. our laughs, our tears.
The memories and the dreams that haunt us,
and the hope that one day we will be free.
We remember that today is not the end,
that we have not come this far just to give up,
and our desparte hopes for the future.
Wounded healer, we offer you our hurts
Broken mender, make us whole.
I bring the bread that is broken,
The wine that is poured out.
The prayers of all who sit here,
The hopes, the dreams.
We remember the last meal,
the agony in the garden,
your fears, your hopes,
with you, we remember.
-------------------------------------------
This was written for the half idea I have about a service of support and healing for people with mental health problems/a history of abuse...let me know what you think...