Sometimes, you see a prayer that just speaks to how you’re feeling. At church today, this one seemed to have been written with me in mind:
You asked for my hands, that you might use them for your purpose.
I gave them for a moment, but withdrew them, for the work was hard.
You asked for my mouth to speak against injustice.
I gave you a whisper that I might not be accused.
You asked for my eyes to see the pain of poverty.
I closed them, for I did not want to see.
You asked for my life, that you might work through me.
I gave a small part that I might not get too involved.
Lord, forgive my calculated efforts to serve you-
only when it is convenient for me to do so,
only when in those places where it is safe to do so,
and only with those who make it easy to do so.
Father, forgive me, renew me, send me out, as a usable instrument,
That I might take seriously the meaning of your cross.