Ancient of Days:
Hear our prayer.
We put away childish things.
We set aside our toys.
And hoisted our tools.
These implements of adulthood
Promised to forge for us
Freedom, meaning, wisdom,
Independence, productivity,
Security, identity, happiness,
And above all self-reliance.
But if they have built anything,
It has been a veneer,
Thin, fleeting, disappointing.
God, did we misunderstand?
Since childhood we have yearned
For age.
We have pulled on the rope of years
Always grabbing the next knot,
Reluctantly letting loose of the last.
And instead of climbing heavenward,
It feels as if you’re more
Distant than ever.
These tools grasped in
Our weathered fists
Leave no room
For your hand,
For your guidance,
Your touch.
Lord,
Pry our hands from
Our ropes of self-reliance,
Our tools of self-deception.
Pour your undeserved
Mercy and grace into
Our callused hearts.
Make us children again.
Leaping open handed,
Full hearted
Into your almighty care.
Recreate us
Dependent on you
And you alone
For freedom, meaning, wisdom,
Independence, productivity,
Security, identity, happiness,
For life itself.
Amen
Amen,… this reminds me of a phrase that I think I was hearing “in the ’80s”,… “Let go, and let God”,…
Such a hard but important prayer.