Hold my hand, Lord, and guide me through the day. I am lost without you, even as I cling to the illusion of mastery.
When you hold my hand, it is the right hand. My strong hand. I am thus weakened and must rely yet more fully on you. I work haltingly with my left. Or do I let go your grip, Lord, and wield my own tools?
As I feel satisfaction in my efficient work, tying, baling, fixing — I slip away.
Let me hold your offered hand, Lord. Stay with me.