Gracious God,

We thank you that you invite us to come to you and that even the smallest bit of faith is enough (Matt 17:2). Thank you for working and listening as we pray.

God, you say that your eyes look down from heaven and see us (Ps 11:4). And so we pray for those of us who feel unseen.

We pray for those of us who feel unseen in our pain. We pray for the physically ill for whom it takes everything in us just to get through this week, this day, this service, and who feel deeply alone and trapped in a body that just won’t work. We pray for those who feel pain in mind and heart, who are experiencing anguish, anxiety, depression, and despair in ways that make us feel alienated from you and from others (Ps 88:8-9). We may feel that darkness and sickness hide us and yet somehow are our only company (Ps 88:18). 

Lord, you say that whether we soar with the wings of the morning or find ourselves in the depths of the grave, you are with us (Ps 139:7-12). Bring your peace and relief to those who are hurting (Ps 34:18). And help us, as your people, to carry one another’s burdens and hold out hope for each other in faith and in gentleness (Gal 6:2). 

We pray for those who feel unseen in our grief, especially for those who have lost loved ones to death or are losing them slowly to terminal illness, degenerative disease, or memory loss. Our grief has left us in shock, and our hearts cry out in agony. It seems that for us time has stopped and trapped us in the moments that shattered our lives, but the world keeps on moving ahead, maybe even leaving us behind.  

Jesus, you call yourself a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief and familiar with our sadness (Isa 53:3). Be with those who feel crushed under the weight of loss. Help us to be a community that rejoices with those who rejoice, mourns with those who mourn, and doesn’t turn away from each other’s sorrow (Rom 12:15). Comfort us so that we can both receive and reflect comfort to one another (2 Cor 1:3-4).

We pray for those who feel unseen in an absence, who feel eclipsed by a big blank space or missing piece in our lives. Perhaps it’s an absence of power, safety, or stability. Maybe it’s the absence of affection from family or from a spouse, or the absence of friendships or romantic relationship or children that are deeply desired and just not here. Maybe it’s the distance and disconnection from this pandemic.

God, you say that you defend the defenseless, that you love the loveless, and that you give the lonely a home (Ps 72:4, Ps 40:17, Ps 68:6a). You say that you provide (Ps 23:1). Help us, Lord, to see one another’s needs and to serve one another in love and tenderness (Gal 5:13). Provide for us through our gifts and experiences, and yes even our weaknesses, as we care for one another (Rom 12:4-8, 2 Cor 12:19, 2 Cor 4:7). 

We pray for those who feel unseen in our labors, our work, our toil. Since humanity sinned and fell from glory, and the world with us, we experience the frustration and futility that comes with fighting against disease, against decay, against disorder, against darkness even as we fight for light, for life, for beauty. Whether it’s at work, home, or in relationships, many of us feel tired and spent, that we just can’t do this anymore. We wonder if we are doing this all in vain even as we struggle to trust that every good deed done in your name has eternal, unshakable significance.

Father, you say you work in us to will and to work according to your good pleasure (Phil 2:12-13). Restore us and encourage us with the knowledge that we are seen by you in our service to you, our neighbors, and this world (Heb 6:10). Help us to spur one another on toward love and good works as we trust that the seeds we plant in this broken earth will bloom in your perfect time (Heb 10:24, Ecc 3:11).

And lastly, we pray for those who feel unseen in the fog of shame. We pray for those who feel the weight of the wrongs we have committed and the pain of wrongs that others have committed against us. We pray for those of us who feel ashamed by the things that tempt us and the ways we wish we didn’t have to feel pulled away from you and your truth.

God, help us to see that you are the one who speaks a final word on our identity, our worth, and our being. Our sin, our suffering, and our temptations do not (Rom 5:16, Rom 8:1, 1 Cor 10:13). You say that we are forgiven, cleansed, healed, and precious in your sight through the grace of Jesus Christ (Eph 5:26, 1 Pet 2:9-10, 1 Pet 2:24). God, help us not to hide from you (Gen 3:9, Ps 139:7). Woo us gently by your kind and careful love (Hos 2:14). Build our community to be a place where instead of hiding from each other we can live in the safety of truth and grace (Rom 12:9-13). May your glory, healing, and hope shine victorious where shame’s shadow now lingers (Eph 5:1-21).

So, God, whether we are up here on this stage or at home livestreaming the service, whether we are practicing our toddling steps downstairs in the nursery or sitting in the back pew hoping to sneak out unnoticed, thank you that you see us and know us.

You see us as we are, and through Christ you see us with love (John 17:24-26). Help us to see you, too. 

In the precious name of Jesus we pray these things, Amen.