Let me meet the worry of the day with sweet concern. Urgency with deliberate care. Desperation with methodical practice.
I have a garden plot. I do not do the growing for these green shoots. I water and weed the soil. My greatest virtues here are patience, consistency, and loving devotion.
Lord, let me walk slowly and with care in the face of all that is frantic.
I try to make myself willing to hear you, but O how I fail short!
Every moment finds me looking for ways to be safe and to gain advantage. If this happens, then I shall do that.
Lord, let me be willing to hear you. When you bid me fail publicly, when you bid me redouble backbreaking labor, let me do all this with a smile.
This planning and preparing, Lord, what good can come of it? Is it not simply the building of sand castles, to be overcome by the tide?
Tomorrow frightens me. Yesterday fills me with regret. Each is imaginary. Why, then, do I give them such power? It is I who invites them into this moment, to ruin it and chew at its foundations.
Lord, you will give me what is required to meet tomorrow when it naturally arrives. Let me attend to what you have delivered today.
Let me see all the ways that love of self motivates my actions.
In seeking safety, advancement, comfort. In gossip over others’ shortcomings. In planning out every step of the day for fear you will forsake me.
Let me see the self-love at the center of all of this, Lord. Grant me willingness that it be burnt out of me.
Let me stand blinking in the sunlight with fresh, pink skin. Make me a new person, beginning at my core.
A pile of debris to clear; a throng of fellows to console; a willful mind to restrain. Lord, the demands of the day seem insurmountable. All I have are hands, yet so much more is needed.
Let me call to you for help. Where would my faith be were I capable of meeting every challenge without aid?
My weakness is where you shine as through colored glass. Let me depend upon you.
The day touches me and I am awake. I fear the rain, the sun, the cold, the heat. Crowds and solitude.
I cower behind my door. Of what am I afraid? Each new act will eventually come to the awareness of my fellows and they will evaluate me. I fear in all instances, that I will be judged wanting.
Alone behind my door, Lord, let me see these fears rightly. They are shadows born of self-regard. No spotlight shines on me, no assays will be performed.
Lord, grant me a humility to see myself, my ordinary self.
The worker must labor. The student must study. The disciple must accept discipline.
The lover must love — and accept love.
Lord, let me be fully who I am before you. The worker, the lover. Let my devotion be action.
The pathway leads away from my doorstep. You beckon me — let me rise and begin the march without grumbling.
There is a meadow, and a cool stream down the way. Simple treasures. The only way there is on foot.
Let me walk, Lord.