Which is real? The gnats that buzz near my ears? The breeze on my skin? Your hands supporting my life through lack and joy equally?
You deliver message upon message to me, Lord, in the guise of thoughts and sensations. What are you telling me?
Let me hear you, Lord. Let me see what is real behind the world.
Let me stand, nothing in my hands, that I may grasp your gifts.
Let me be silent, that I may hear your voice.
Let me sit still, that I may discern your arrival.
Thank you, Lord, for all that is coming to pass. I am empty and ready.
Are there limits to what you will bestow upon me? Surely my ability to accept ends before your supply depletes.
Let me have no meager expectations, Lord. You are bounty. I need but grasp.
Thy will be done.
Let me rejoice today. I will face vexation and impossibility. In them you will display your love for me when they are overcome.
Trapped in a box canyon, I look up to the sky and your hand lifts me away. Such a thrill to fly through the air, your child, rescued.
Let me rejoice.
You have called me by name. I need not look to my left and right and wonder if you mean me: your voice you tailored so that I would hear you.
You call me knowing my weakness and limitation, fully aware of my damaged past and what lies in my secret heart.
And yet still you call me.
Dare I resist your love? How could I stay hidden at home, when so called?
I will answer, Lord.
I am an old tree. Sap flows deep within, yet my branches are weary of their own weight.
My brothers topple due to rot and disease. Little by little, I stand alone.
Lord, for which creatures will I provide shelter today? Will a hawk perch lightly on high branches? Spring brings new growth even as I ache.
A human soul, I will walk from here, quickened.
Let me do your work today, Lord.
Will the house of cards be blown over? Will the precarious tower topple?
Our plans are so contingent and uncertain, Lord. We build on shifting sands and think it rock.
Blow it away, let us start anew.
Let this day be filled with simple, small things.
Praise and accolades fade. Fellow feeling disappears like mist. The buildings and structures that bear my name will crumble.
I will die and stand before you at judgment. What will I have to show for myself then?
As I return home, you will ask, Child, whom have you helped? What was your intent?
Grant me improved motives, Lord, for I will face you naked.
On what path am I? Are my doings today better than those yesterday?
Is it enough that I meant no ill?
Improve me day by day, Lord, and let it start this morning.
Am I the one who skips through life, gifted with adequate energy, or am I the delicate one with fragile nuance? Some of my parts are hard, some soft. Can I be both at once, Lord?
The self regard is so impoverished, let me turn my gaze outward. Toward whom shall I pray, and for what? Grant me discernment and willingness.
They will be done.