Dear God, I am just a small stream of water, Lord. A slow flow along a grassy field. Barely enough to slake the thirst of even the smallest creatures. Passers by step over me with ease, as if I were not there.
Lord, let me join a larger stream, and then one yet larger, as I flow to you in a mighty river. A small part of a great flood.
For now I am a small, trickling spring. Let me feel no need to demonstrate potential, or be recognized as anything more. Which drops support the barges in the river? Which wash away the peers? We all do, yet none can be pointed to.
Today, Lord, let me work quietly, anonymously. Let me trickle along, though none suspect the river I will later join.