New Morning Prayer for Women
Save me from the middle aged man
whose limp hand needs perpetual holding,
especially when he has a cold—or has an allergy attack.
Oh, Shekhinah, Maker of All Things
(including blessed kitchen appliances and other labor-saving devices)
guard me from my mother-in-law who narrows her eyes
as she enters my home searching for dust and fingerprints
or arrives for Shabbat dinner early,
or worse: unannounced.
May it be Your will, Shekhinah,
To make me confident, cunning and commanding as
Lilith, Miriam, Deborah, and Judith.
Give me the courage to claim freedom
to choose my own method of birth-control,
my own political views,
the gender of my spouse, (or whether to have a spouse)
the way I make love,
how I form a family
or, if I chose, to have an abortion.
Shekhinah, blessed are You who has brought women to this time
when we can walk freely and without shame
on the streets without hats, gloves, high heels or girdles.
When we can exit
from our father’s house,
or the marital bedroom,
with a minimum of baggage
as our mothers once walked out of Egypt.
Shekhinah, God of our Mothers and Daughters,
bless us with employers who understand the needs of sick children.
Bless us with reliable childcare.
Enable adult children to earn an adequate living
so they don’t need to move back into our home—
permit us to keep their old room as a room of our own.
Shekhinah, Healer of the wounded:
May Your face shine upon us and be gracious
May Your presence give us strength,
May Your warmth and breath fill us with the energy of life.
Shekhinah, turn your face to us.
Shekhinah, shower us with peace.
One comment on “New Morning Prayer for Women”
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shekhinah,
Please send me a Nice Jewish man, who doesn’t have to pretend to a stiff upper lip,
Who can whine like I do when i have a cold,
Who can–and will–spend the years it takes to grow up with me,
While I grow beside him.
Who can find the humor in my flaws as I laugh while locating for him
the Peanut butter in the fridge, literally in front of my nose.
And, Shekhinah, if only his mother were alive to be my mother-in-law,
I would embrace her with love and laugh over any gimlet eye
Turned in my house-cleaning.
“Mother-in-law”, I would beg her,
“Teach me how you do it so well,
For I will never be the balabusta you are.”
In truth, she would soon realize, I will never be a balabusta
At all. And maybe hire me a cleaning lady.
Oh, Shekhinah,
Help me above all not to buy into
Anglo-Saxon Protestant cultural values that say that no one
Should drop by unannounced.
Remind me, instead, of the richness of my own
Immigrant culture that values closeness,
And men with real feelings, exposed,
And that has, for more time than our memories can hold,
Created both men and women with wits and drive,
Creativity and comedy,
And the wisdom to love one another as we are.