A Prayer that Fell

At Farm Church we have a prayer wall. It’s really just a 4x8 piece of chicken wire with a bamboo pole at each end. But every Sunday we unroll it and hang it up in our worship space. A basket of cloth ribbons and some markers sit on a table in front of it, and during worship there’s always an open invitation for folks to write down a prayer and tie it on. Names, places, hopes, concerns… Sometimes we take it to the Farmer’s Market too, where we invite people to add a prayer to the wall. Over time it’s become quite colorful.


Occasionally a prayer falls off. While we’re moving it from one place to another or bumping it in and out of my van, sometimes one or two ribbons fall to the floor. I always make a point of tying them back on, nice and tight. Perhaps there’s some theological sense to it – something about our prayers being bound together in God’s hearing and knowing. Or maybe they echo Martin Luther King Jr.’s sense that we’re “tied in a single garment of destiny.”


On Sunday we were getting ready for Farm Church when I found a blue ribbon lying on the floor. I picked it up and read it. It said, “I am called to second chances.”

Of course, I don’t know who wrote it, and I probably never will. Could be someone who gathers with Farm Church all the time, or it could have been somebody at the market who, without saying a word, dropped by the wall to articulate a prayer, a hope, a grief… Or in this case, a statement of faith? A short creed? A mantra? I am called to second chances.

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I found myself thinking “Amen!” for this person as I tied his or her ribbon back onto the chicken wire. “Amen!” and “Aren’t we all?” Second chances at life, second chances at love, second chances at speaking out, second chances at parenting well, second (and third, fourth, fifth…) chances at living fully, alive and awake to God’s prompting. Thousands of chances to pay attention, to be mindful of goodness and grace, to gather ourselves together and step out again into a wild world…

And I love the language, “I am called.” Not “I get second chances” or “I deserve second chances,” but “I am called to second chances.” There’s an intentionality about it that feels powerful. I find myself wondering about this person’s second chances, and then my own – wondering how I might be called to swing again, even though I missed the first time.

To what second chance do you feel called today? What will that look like? And while you’re at it? What would you write on your ribbon? Maybe you’ve been following Farm Church from afar and aren’t able to gather with us here in Durham. Email us (benjkrase@gmail.com) or, if you’re comfortable, comment below and I promise to tie your prayer to our wall.



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