No pioneer nor leader, I am one of many quiet workers. Yet in this pile of wood there lies a world to explore. Along the well-worn path to my garden, wonders.
Even my body contains revelations if I approach with care and curiosity. How best can I place this foot? Which angle makes my back strongest?
Lord, I numb myself with distraction. Let me awaken to the world and discover mystery.
Your treasures await.
Magic is loose in the world! A current flows from fellow to fellow, from neighbor to neighbor. Walking singly through a crowd, may others be uplifted simply through being near to me. Let each then encourage another.
There is a hole in my pack and my supplies are constantly drained. Still as I walk, let me trust that, as if by magic, you will restock me.
Plodding through the crowd, worried over lack, may I be uplifted by others, sharing their own magic simply through nearness.
Lord, be near to us.
When the mist clears, and the landscape is seen, how shall I react to what I see?
Will I wish for a more orderly and bountiful garden, for finer outbuildings? Will I see the crowds gathering and so feel menaced?
Lord, the clarity itself is your gift. I can see the path, its borders, the obstacles, the treasures.
Let me be useful to you and to my fellows, dear friend, with this new sight.
I scarcely inhabit myself.
Let me feel the ground underneath my feet. Let me feel the sofa cushion pressing against my legs. Let me feel the air on my skin.
I am not my body, but I am in it. Let me dwell where my body rests, Lord. Here is where you come to me.
My weakness brings your power. My blindness ushers forth insight.
The road through this day is harder than ever I could bear. It is an opportunity to rely upon you ever more.
All calamity opens the door to dependence. Lord, let me abandon myself to you.
You require no confession. I have no secrets from you. Even my innermost heart is an open book to you.
You shower me with all I need, with riches, nonetheless.
Lord, let me attend not to my prayers but to my listening and seeing. Let me recognize how you are already answering yet-unmade prayers.
I am the sheep, herded towards pasture. I am the ox, willing to dig furrows. I am the deer, ears pricked for danger.
Lord, let me be useful to you today. Let me be no wolf nor lion, sowing fear and chaos among gentle neighbors.
I am the newborn, helpless and pink.
Make me balm on the land, dear Lord.
Your power flows through the trees, the air, the world, my hands.
I sought you and you came here to me.
This is good news to share. Empower my words as you do the elements.
Pacing, a lion in a cage, I am my own jailer. I hoard wealth and dare not spend a cent.
I pace myself, while the world’s needs sprint by.
Lord, let me be useful today, reserving nothing. Tomorrow will be met with its own supply.
I am on no straight walkway. The trail curves and loops through the wood.
All the paths are yours. The choices I make at each fork are illusion, for in either case I am still along your way. I have no need to panic if I miss a turning. Slow my breath, Lord.
Protected and led, I am a child in the park, always safe.
Let me feel your hand in mine.