God of all tenderness,
You who walk gently among the broken and beautiful,
I bring before You the image that lingers —
a home in the woods,
a gathering of the young,
a table being set,
and a glass pumpkin — delicate, lovely, and broken in my hands.

I don’t always know what to do with the fragile things.
Not in dreams,
and not in waking life either.
I try to carry them well —
the stories, the callings, the hearts entrusted to me.
But sometimes they slip,
sometimes they crack,
and I don’t know how to make it right.

Still, You are the One who sees even what I try to hide.
You do not shame me for what was broken.
You do not rush me to fix it.
You just stay with me,
gentle and unafraid of the mess.

Teach me, Lord,
to live unashamed in my imperfection.
To name what has cracked without hiding.
To trust that even in the breaking,
Your grace is still enough.

Let the home I build — in dreams and in life —
be a place where the wounded are welcome,
where the vulnerable are safe,
and where even the broken things
can be set out without fear.

Amen.