I’ve had this saved neatly in a folder for I suppose just a time as this. It had been given to me with a few other prayers some years ago, and I’ve just had them tucked away ever since. I came back across this folder yesterday while looking for documents I needed. I originally kept it out for further contemplation, due to another prayer within it being so comfy to my soul. Then when more time allowed, I found this one. I am sharing it because I think it reflects important aspects of this journey I am on. It shows how God can speak and can point us in directions, whether we like what is said or not. Though, I am learning, He is more gentle and gracious, than I usually believe. I thank Him for that. So, this is what I firmly believe is He, trying to get through His daughters stubborn head and broken heart, and having to be a chastising parent to me while at it: direction, gentle reproof, speaking to my attitudes, circumstances, mindset, all that.
And He is not pushy about it. But, He lets me set it aside keeping me aware that I need to listen, and the sooner I do, the sooner my healings……..
A Seventeenth Century Prayer-Author unknown, found in Peals of Great Price, by Joni Eareckson Tada. Zondervan, 2006. March 11th entry.
She says and I agree:
“This one seems to be speaking directly to me.
Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody. Helpful, but not bossy with my vast store of wisdom-it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.
Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point swiftly. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others’ pains, but help me to endure them with patience. I dare not ask for improved memory, bur for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.
Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a sour old person- some of them are so hard to live with and each one a crowning work of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so. Amen.”