GOD, BLESS AMERICA. Would you please, Lord? But not because we deserve Your blessings. We know we don’t. You’d never guess it though, by the way we sing those words. It almost sounds like we are demanding something from You. Even the man who wrote our country’s unofficial anthem forget to put a comma after the D and before the B. Forgive us, Father, for the cavalier way we so often invoke Your name or attempt to order You around.

LAND THAT I LOVE. It’s true. In spite of the fact that she is far from perfect, we love this country of contrasting contours. Its amber fields of grain that wave in the wind. Its majestic purple mountains that attempt to steal our breath (and succeed most of the time). Its dry desert valleys and orchard-filled plains. Its Great Lakes and Badlands. Its farmlands and cities. Ranch houses and penthouses. From the brownstones of inner cities to the White House in the city named for our first President, we love this land where the seeds of freedom continue to grow 248 years after they were first sown.

STAND BESIDE HER. Because freedom has flourished and produced the fruit of prosperity, ingenuity, world influence and peace, our country at times has cockily articulated its self-sufficiency. But since that tragic Tuesday in September nearly twenty-three years back, she has come to recognize just how vulnerable she really is. Please stand beside her. As she continues to fight terrorism and export justice, the continual cost in dollars and human lives leaves her dizzy and in need of support. Deep within her fractured soul she knows she needs You. Without Your overshadowing Presence, freedom’s fruit will no longer grow for future generations to enjoy.

AND GUIDE HER. Yes, Lord, please guide her. Our beloved nation has never needed a compass like she does today. She is confused, disoriented, at times divided and too-often double-minded. Unsure of what she stands for, she is prone to fall for anything that presents itself as halfway believable. Time was when she looked to Your dictates for direction. Back then the Bible was her road map. The Ten Commandments were her milepost. But bending over backwards in order to be tolerant of every imaginable point of view, she has become a victim of moral vertigo.

THROUGH THE NIGHT. Even though the nightmare of September 11th has passed, the twilight zone of war continues to eclipse the promise of a new day we all long for. The crescent moon in the dark sky overhead reminds us of the religious diversity that is at once foundational to our democracy but also a threat. The chill of fear and death has us nervously praying for the dawn.

WITH THE LIGHT. There are glimpses of light all around us, Father. Candles in churches. Spotlights on flags. A kaleidoscope of colored fireworks exploding overhead. They remind us of the hope that we have in You (and our fellow citizens) when we are engulfed by black storm clouds of political debate or are forced to walk through the valley of death’s dark shadows.

FROM ABOVE. But candles burn out and fireworks are temporary. Even spotlights eventually have to be replaced. Only Your light, O Lord, can dispel the darkness that we most fear. Eternal Son of God, would You be so kind and merciful to focus Your brilliant rays in our direction? With laser-like precision, please penetrate the membrane of apathy and anxiety that blankets our nation and suffocates our joy.

FROM THE MOUNTAINS. From Mt. McKinley to Pike’s Peak, from the Rockies to the Smokies. From the green timbers of Mt. Rainier to the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. From Mt. St. Helens in Washington to Mt. Washington in New Hampshire. Lord, may the glory of Your creation in this breathtaking land cause us to lift up our eyes to the hills and, with the psalmist, sing Your praises as we celebrate our freedom and acknowledge our gratitude today.

TO THE PRAIRIES. Windswept, yet fertile. Wheatland and cornfields boasting rich black soil The heartland of our nation, where hardworking people prove that determination irrigated by sweat and tears is all that is needed to grow the American dream. Although the mountain peaks may, at first blush, seem more exotic, we’re grateful for those who model the skill it takes to tame the earth by farming level ground. Reward their efforts, Lord. And would You teach us to be more grateful for all they do and produce on our behalf?

TO THE OCEANS WHITE WITH FOAM. A nonstop surf that dances effortlessly on a stage of undisturbed beaches. A dance in which every move is choreographed by the moon You hung in the sky. East coast, west coast, left coast, right coast. The Atlantic and the Pacific define the borders of the land called brave and free. And that is because we proudly owned a destiny determined by You. A destiny that manifested a pioneer spirit by which new trails were blazed from east to west until we ran out of land. But our white-foamed oceans are more than water boundaries. They are also the waterways immigrants have traveled in search of a better life. Lord, may You continue to bring to our land those who will enrich us by their varied experiences. Bring also those whose poverty we can eliminate by our bounty and Your grace.

GOD, BLESS AMERICA. It is a simple request, Lord. Yet, it is one we humbly ask. It is a prayer we ask with fervent hope. Knowing what we know, we cannot imagine life in this land apart from Your blessing. Our enemies are few, but deadly. Our vulnerability is unmistakable. Our destiny is solely in Your hands.  And so we confess that, unless You bless us, we, in all likelihood, will topple from the pedestal on which we have staked our reputation for nearly a quarter of a millennia. God, would You bless our country? Would You forgive our sin (both personal and national)? Would You heal our land?

MY HOME SWEET HOME. Granted, it is not the only home for those who populate this planet flung into space by Your fingers. But America is our home. She has sheltered us from threat of war and given us a place of belonging. It was in this home You determined we would be born, nursed by moral values, coached in taking our first steps along the open paths of opportunity, coaxed to claim our right to freely speak and encouraged to find our calling in a land where everyone’s voice is heard. Our home sweet home, indeed. And thanks to You, Almighty God, how very sweet it is.