O Father, make me honest.
Teach me not to pretend.
Teach me to let my "yes" be yes, and my "no," no.
Teach me to let go of all this awful posturing; this ugly vanity; this horrible need to impress people; this drive to justify myself.
Are you not my Justifier?
Teach me to be open and transparent before my neighbor, as I am before you.
Father, make me humble.
Teach me to forget myself.
Teach me to love without care for whether or not I am loved in return.
Teach me to let go of all this awful, grasping greediness; all my designs and purposes for people; all my demands and daydreams; and simply love as you give it to me to love.
Will you not be sufficient for me?
Teach me to rest in your love. Amen.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
A Prayer and Confession
O God, to every open window and every unlocked door, my feet are quick to run.
Show me but the batting of long eyelashes, or the curve of a cute nose;
Let me hear one sweet laugh or one kind and softly spoken word;
Let me only feel the warmth of a hand in mine,
And every thought of obedience and devotion is forgotten;
Every flame of fidelity, every spark of the divine love is put out.
Is that what you are to me, Lord?
Is the life of Christ only what I'm willing to settle for instead of sex?
Is the Son of man only some poor replacement for hair and eyes and hips?
Do I only fold my hands to pray so long as there's no one pretty to put them on?
If it is so, then I am a fool, and I have learned nothing at all from my wandering.
When I wandered in a desert waste, who found me?
Was it some pretty fantasy?
No, Lord; it was you.
You found me walking in circles, muttering nonsense to myself,
And you shut my mouth, and you opened my eyes, and you set me on the path that leads to life.
When I was hungry and thirsty, who fed me?
Was it some maybe-someday sweetheart?
No--she has only ever been faithless;
She has given me dust to eat, and tears to drink.
But you--you broke your body to give me bread,
You spilled your blood to give me drink.
And yet for all this, I have turned aside to every other road,
Chasing the imagined scent of sweet perfume and the echo of some flirting voice.
O my God, forgive me.
The story of you and I is the record of your fidelity and my faithlessness.
Rescue me, Father, from my own foolish fantasies.
Every other well is empty; every other garden, overgrown;
And if I found my brown-eyed girl, though she had all the beauty a man could look for,
Though she were the kindest and most graceful of all your creatures,
Yet if I found her by leaving your flock and straying from your pasture,
She too would prove a spring of corruption, and a bed of thorns and weeds.
O Lord, be thou my vision.
Let your grace be sufficient for me.
Let your love be to me fullness and life. Amen.
Show me but the batting of long eyelashes, or the curve of a cute nose;
Let me hear one sweet laugh or one kind and softly spoken word;
Let me only feel the warmth of a hand in mine,
And every thought of obedience and devotion is forgotten;
Every flame of fidelity, every spark of the divine love is put out.
Is that what you are to me, Lord?
Is the life of Christ only what I'm willing to settle for instead of sex?
Is the Son of man only some poor replacement for hair and eyes and hips?
Do I only fold my hands to pray so long as there's no one pretty to put them on?
If it is so, then I am a fool, and I have learned nothing at all from my wandering.
When I wandered in a desert waste, who found me?
Was it some pretty fantasy?
No, Lord; it was you.
You found me walking in circles, muttering nonsense to myself,
And you shut my mouth, and you opened my eyes, and you set me on the path that leads to life.
When I was hungry and thirsty, who fed me?
Was it some maybe-someday sweetheart?
No--she has only ever been faithless;
She has given me dust to eat, and tears to drink.
But you--you broke your body to give me bread,
You spilled your blood to give me drink.
And yet for all this, I have turned aside to every other road,
Chasing the imagined scent of sweet perfume and the echo of some flirting voice.
O my God, forgive me.
The story of you and I is the record of your fidelity and my faithlessness.
Rescue me, Father, from my own foolish fantasies.
Every other well is empty; every other garden, overgrown;
And if I found my brown-eyed girl, though she had all the beauty a man could look for,
Though she were the kindest and most graceful of all your creatures,
Yet if I found her by leaving your flock and straying from your pasture,
She too would prove a spring of corruption, and a bed of thorns and weeds.
O Lord, be thou my vision.
Let your grace be sufficient for me.
Let your love be to me fullness and life. Amen.
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