by Brian G. Daigle

What are bright? Sunrises and smiles.
What are busy? Bees and ant piles.
What are happy? Children and flowers.
What are gifts? Friends and hours.

by Brian G. Daigle, modeled after Rudyard Kipling’s “If—”
 
If you can guard your heart when all about you
              Are compromising theirs, blaming woes on you,
If you can honor yourself when all dishonor you,
              But be merciful with their dishonoring too;
If you can labor and not grow resentful in laboring,
              Or being gossiped about, don’t trade in lies told,
Or being derided, derision not harboring,
              And yet don’t dress too haughty, nor speak too bold:
 
If you can feel—and not make feelings your master;
              If you can direct—and not make directing your worth;
If you can host life’s Lents and Easters
              And to each in their seasons labor unto birth;
If you can see yourself in any one mirror
              Warped by Folly to entrap damsels and muggins,
Or see the world you’ve built, shattered,
              And with the sun arise with blistered hands.
 
If you can paint one picture of all your toil
              And sell each drop at public auction,
And watch it leave priced far less valuable,
              And never sigh a huff at hearts so misshapen;
If you can coerce your tendon and joint and heart
              To wash the feet of every weary soul,
And so honor the lesser when nothing more can you impart,
              Except breath which livens them with “Behold!”
 
If when you wrangle with children and time, maintain your grace,
              Or frolic and feast with Princes and wine—nor lose Prudence’s guard.
If neither strangers nor family can derail your pace,
              If every woman knows your praise, but none be vanguard;
If in an hour you build more than break,
              And at every turn and juncture, rise more than you falter,
Home will be made everywhere you give more than you take,
              And—the Beauty therein—you will be a Woman, my daughter! 

by Brian G. Daigle 
​
I saw her there on canvas stretched 
With strokes and pigments ever etched. 

I beheld her once on mountain peak,
Those Sawtooths reaching heaven's seat. 

I felt her dimly by the light 
That love burns when two loves unite. 

I stood within her cathedral walls
Where bread rebuilds and rebels fall.

I feared her still with raging waves
Which crashed upon far Roach's cove.

I viewed her in that father's care
When War did bind and fear ensnared. 

I kissed her, never calm nor tame,
Her power tempered not by name.  

I held her in my child's delight 
When fatherly affection did ignite.

I cried for her when broken hearts 
Still loved and shared what love imparts. 

I heard her hum from cello's deep,
From violin strings my soul did leap. 

I read her once in Homer's verse,
And by Chesterton's pen my faith she nursed. 

I counted her deep in Augustine's stream, 
When mercy crept like ivy green. 

I watched her born, I knew it true
Where daughter vacated mother's womb.

I smelled and tasted her at dusk
When mother's table I learned to trust.  

I heard her in each story told,
By Payne Street's flames, both young and old. 

I saw her too when rampart men,
First laid their eyes upon Helen. 

But never was she more terribly seen 
Than when divine blood death did ripen. 

by Brian G. Daigle

O Lord, in giving us life we have become your children. In giving us children you have given us life as fathers. Make us men who carry both responsibilities with joy and gratitude. Provide for us that we would provide for others. Speak to us by your Word and Spirit that we would know what to speak to others. And forgive us so that we would be able to forgive others. Keep us from pride, anger, laziness, and grumbling. Cause us to abound in the strength of sacrificial love. For those fathers who have passed, bring them into your eternal glory, where we anticipate joyful reunion. For those fathers far from you, set their minds on things above, that we with all your saints would find our greatest delight in your Son Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. 

by Brian G. Daigle

O Lord, we cannot know maternal love until we see it from above, an extension of you in constancy and warmth. Our mothers are our first homes, in womb, in swaddle, and in our daily bread. Make our mothers women who carry these responsibilities with zeal and courage. Sustain them that they would help in sustaining others. Build them by your Word and Spirit that they would build others in the same. And cover them in patient grace so that they would cover the world with the same. Keep them from anxiety, fear, frustration, and gossip. Cause them to abound in the beauty of a fervent faith. For those mothers who have passed, bring them into your eternal glory, where we anticipate joyful reunion. For those mothers far from you, set their minds on things above, that we with all your saints would find our greatest delight in your Son Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. 

by Brian G. Daigle

Our Father in Christ, 
In listening, make my countenance soft and my reception shrewd.
              Fix my attention upon the speaker that they may catch a glimpse of how You attend to both our prayers and ramblings.
              Teach me to affirm what is right and graciously deny what is false.
              May the light of friendship be seen wherever dialogue is found.
              And cause me to seek to understand before being understood. 

In reading, make my soul and surroundings the solitude I need for broad comprehension and deep contemplation.
              Fix in me wisdom when selecting readings, knowing my time on earth is short.
              Teach me steadfast diligence in completion, or peace to put a book aside.
              May the light of my reactions be as if the writer were there with me, incarnate.
              And cause me to make holy applications according to your Scriptures, Oh Lord.  

In writing, make my hands conform both craft and content to your goodness.
              Fix my arguments in both soundness and relevance.
              Teach me metaphors most effective. 
              May the light of our creatureliness be seen in our own creations.
              And cause in me a greater trust of your Spirit’s work over my own eloquence

In thinking, make my contemplation worthwhile. 
              Fix my thoughts within earthly bounds, where you have placed us.
              Teach me hope, that the lies of the evil one would not take root.
              May the light of prudence and purity abound.
              And cause in me a love of stillness, that I would know You are God. 
             
In speaking, make my being know the weightiness of the tongue, as fire, sword and healing agent.  
              Fix my words with great care for the listener. 
              Teach me when to speak and especially when not to speak.
              May the light of wisdom and redemption flow forth to the hearers. 
              And cause in me a Christian’s mouth, that the world would know you are the Logos.   

When interruptions come, however large or small, commit to my being a joyful trust and patience, not in my own strivings, but in Yours.  

And in all these, make my heart, soul, mind, and strength wholly submit to the guiding of your Holy Spirit, who has proceeded from the Father and the Son to till the entirety of the saint; that your bride, the church, would be presented to You clean and unblemished according to your holiness, Oh Lord. Amen.