How will love spread through this stony land, Lord? How can I carry it along with these other burdens?
I wait, I wait for signs of which way to go, what to say, how to be. Hear me, Lord, let me hear your answers.
Have you already been speaking to me, have I not heard? Grant me ears to listen, and willingness to do.
O brothers, sisters, who face trial, I ache in compassion. Let my own woes be a practice-ground to learn let more care.
Grant me eyes to see, Lord, in even the hardest moment, your gift to me.
Can I fully accept your will? Let thy will be done.
Those who need me, let me have strength for them.
Those who need me to step aside, let me have grace to do so.
Those who would help me, let me finally grasp their offered hand.
They are all you, Lord. Let me do your will today.
Is your will for me today to succeed at all I try? Is it, instead, to be taught a lesson of humility?
Let me live within this day only. There is no success or failure in the moment.
Grant me the equanimity of now, Lord.
Lord, let me do these small things as if they were big things with all eyes upon me.
Let me do your will today.
Do I sow chaos, or bring your healing?
Do I pass along your love, or am I a source of judgment?
Am I complacent in my imperfection?
Let me approach you, Lord, and get straightened the bent parts of me.
Thy will be done.
I rise to the chores already set; I need no instructions to come with the dawn. I tends to my dwelling, my person, the grounds. These are things I do daily.
Where, then, do I learn of your will? In the small voice that corrects my attitude? In the upended cart that now needs repair and will alter my pattern?
Lord, even those things I do by rote, let me become awake to them.
Suspended, safe for now. Calamity below.
Do I dangle from a fraying thread? A chain with a weak link?
Do I rest in a net, with holes and gaps?
Or, Lord, have you woven a tapestry upon which I lie – threads crossing and supporting one another, safe, soft, shot through with beauty?
Open my eyes, Lord, to how safe I am and the beauty you surround me with.
I clear paths for others to walk. Let me not seek thanks nor credit.
I build benches to sit and rest, let me forgo adding a plaque.
You move my hands, Lord, let me not seek to embellish the work.
Can I see as you see? See others, my circumstances, myself?
The days and moments tick by, time passing cures woe. The rushing river polishes rocks and makes even the rapids smooth.
I am beset by worry, Lord, yet let me wait and help my fellows – for the sun will rise, shine, and heal the land.
Let me pass the news.