The Fisherman's Prayer

This poem was written in 2023 and first shared to the Middle East Council of Churches, the Young Women's Christian Association of Palestine, Bethlehem Bible College, and the Sabeel Ecumenical Liberation Theology Center. When i first released this prayer piece on digital platforms, i received mixed reactions from fellow christians.

Dear God,

Your book is a book of war, pain and anger, it is also a book of love, peace and compassion.

Today, we pray to you

The God of love

The God of our forebearers

The God of a thousand villages

The God of ophans and widows

The God of the blind and oppressed

The God of our grandparent's house

The God, our friend

The God that taught us to pray

Our struggles are one, too many

They weigh down heavy

We push boundaries beyond our strengths

We fight hate with love

We try to be upright people, doing the right thing at the right time

Reading the "room" as signs

Some say this war is your will,

You ordain this for the weak and ill if this is your will, then let all our tears flood the earth

Let its flame burn all the creatures far and wide

Let it rip apart every bones and genomes

Let it leave a mark with disfigured scars

Let it dig graveyards for affluent murderers

Let it be the end of ends

Like Noah's ark, our tears are relational-ships that sail beyond the margins

The same sun that rises up in our blue skies, is the same sun that sets in Gaza

Peter betrayed your holiness in a crowd of wolves yet he became the rock who walked on water

Some of my christian brothers and sisters secretly nitpick our ways,

in their eyes we are a Peter because we are against the uniform slaughter

If being a Peter means speaking up against splashes of blood across the chest of innocent children then so be it, Lord

We are the peters of today

We will take up our cross

They can kill us too with their swords, stand on our graves and sing their "meant to be" church chorus

We rather let the selfless love flowing inside us warm up cold ICU beds then to watch with numbness

Maybe, we are a sum of ridiculous samaritans in the streets;fighting off our shackles while we carry our brothers ashes

We are not the Potter

We are just a human with a belly cord

A simple fisherman with a sea basket of salt

We feel their suffering like a heart rupture

Sixteen thousand kilometres is a short walkway when our spirits are mourning there and our bodies are sleeping here

How can we look in the inner deep souls of our neighbour's sad eyes and tell them it's your will?

What words do we use to explain this to little children surrounded by tankdromes?

What story will they remember about their homes?

Is this really your will?

Please tell us, Lord

Your holy spirit is the self, the one that guides our subconscious

The one that goes before us

The one that is omnipotent

The self-existent one

The same spirit in our core is the same one that resides in the hearts of a war stricken strip

We know we're a terrible christian like Dismas, the good thief at the Cross

We remain steadfast that the love that cradles our heart transcends the carnal nature

If this prayer stands a chance to reach your throne,

Let those who have not sin, cast the first stone

Please Lord,

Defend our Palestinian brothers and sisters land and dignity, and cover this prayer with the blessings of the Trinity

Amen