Today, a prayer:
O Holy One:
You alone know the depths of my heart,
the hope of my heart and soul,
the passion that moves me toward you.
You know my joy and my pain,
my triumph and my trouble.
you know the parts of my life
that I celebrate,
and the parts that embarrass me,
that I would hide from everyone
but you.
And so I bring them all to you;
hear me and love me anyway
if it pleases you so to do.
Love me, if you will, both for who I am,
and who I would that I were.
Love me for the good I have done
through your power,
and the good I would hope to do.
Yet asking this seems to me to require
that I pray you, I beseech you:
forgive first my pride, my arrogance,
my presumption.
“Who am I?” David asks,
and I with him.
Who am I to think that I can
accomplish anything for you –
For you have the power,
the knowledge,
the skill.
Who am I, surrounded by so many
amazing and gifted people:
your people, citizens of your kingdom?
Like those saints, you choose not to call
me servant,
but have instead named me “Friend.”
Yet it pleases you for me to be
in a small place,
a quiet place,
a solitary place,
a place where few will know me,
and even fewer will care.
May I revel in usefulness.
May I find contentment,
and give it to you as a gift:
a token of my steadfast love,
an offering to signify my trust
in your will, in your way,
in your providence.
May I be at peace.
May I live in that peace,
revel in that peace,
share that peace,
And daily speak of your peace:
peace past understanding,
peace past measuring,
peace past description,
yet powerful to save.
And now, mighty Father, having heard,
take my words;
take the lips that spoke them,
take the mind that framed them,
take the heart that felt them,
take all of me, body and spirit,
as your worship –
worship in spirit and truth,
until I am forever and irrevocably yours
through the intercession of your Son,
and the witness of your Spirit.
Amen
