A desert spreads inside me. Faith slips away, bit by bit replaced by self-reliance. Where once my day was filled with teeming life, I see now wasteland.
Rot at the edges.
Lord, reawaken me. Press my hand into yours, whisper of your presence in my ear. Let me be not alone.
Where I am confused and wondering, grant me a sign. Point me in the way I am to go. Grant me knowledge of the next steps.
Lord, I fear so. I fear judgment, failure, trial, effort. Your path may lead through these things.
Let me trust that you will deliver me, even when I see no natural way forward. Thank you, Lord, for coming to the aid of me, your small child.
I feel the air in my lungs, the tightness in my belly as I fear the day, the spill as it relaxes with my out breath. Repeatedly giving up my fear, over and over.
Of what am I afraid? The day is a mist, burnt away by the sun. And yet fear gnaws.
Lord, let me breathe out, and yet again.
Let this day be one of harmony.
Let my actions not be dissonant. Let me turn my steps so they follow well-worn pathways, and let my feet fall softly. Let my hands be gentle, let my voice be at a sweet pitch, let my words be kind.
Let me volunteer, dear Lord. Let me be generous, let me be diligent, let me turn attention away from myself.
Let this day be a symphony, the notes I make unheard as they float with their brothers and sisters. Let me be one part of a chord.
Are these sorrows meant for me, dear Lord? Am I to live this day amidst lack and woe?
These are gifts meant just for me. They bring me closer to others who suffer yet more.
Let my acts today be disciplined. Let my habits be orderly and my thinking straight.
Let me live as a tool in your drawer, sweet Lord. Sharpen me. Let my edge become keen, let me gather no rust.
Let me become ready, then more ready, and then again yet more.
Fear grips me. Fear of tomorrow’s poor performance. Fear of today’s dull stretches. Fear of what lurks around the corner. Fear of sudden calamity, and slow decay.
O Lord, shall I ask for relief, courage, strength? With such polluted thoughts, my very prayers are wrong.
Let me become awake, sweet Lord. Let me see this world rightly, as it is and not as I fear it. Let my illusions dissipate, that i may see my fears are just mist.
Let me make ready to meet you. Let me approach this day, each moment, as if it were final.
How will I be judged if this day is the only one? How must I act, if there be no tomorrow? Let that, then, be my way: accepting of today’s judgment.