After weeks and weeks of barely being able to write at all, I woke up yesterday at 5am with this:
A Prayer for the Strong
You come to God willing to be an
equal partner. 60-40, even.
“I’ll do the work,” you pray, “Just
show me where to go.”
And you are careful to pray more for
others than for yourself.
And you never, ever complain.
You really try to keep your requests
concise: Serenity. Courage. Wisdom.
But deep within there is the cry of
an anguished teenager, a broken-hearted
child, a damsel in distress.
Perhaps withholding your tantrum isn’t
doing God – or you – or the world –
Perhaps you don’t need to fold your desire away
like cotton panties in a drawer.
Perhaps you could stand there, naked, tear-stained,
helpless – allowing raw grace to descend
upon your weary soul.
©2020 – S. Bennett
I hope this finds you well.
By The Way, You Look Really Great Today