A Sunday Morning Prayer

Hear me quickly, Lord
for my mind soon wanders to other things
    I am more familiar with
        and more concerned about
            than I am with you.

Words will not do, Lord.
Listen to my tears,
    for I have lost much
        and fear more.
Listen to my sweat,
    for I wake at night,
        overwhelmed by darkness and strange dreams.
Listen to my sighs,
    for my longing surges like the sea--
    urgent, mysterious, beckoning.
Listen to my growling gut,
    for I hunger for bread and intimacy.
Listen to my curses,
    for I am angry at the way the world
    comes down on me sometimes
        and I sometimes on it.
Listen to my crackling knuckles,
    for I hold very tightly to myself
        and anxiously squeeze myself
            into others' expectations
                and them into mine,
        and then shake my fists at you
            for disappointing me.

Listen to my footfalls,
    for I stumble to bring good tidings to someone.
Listen to my groans,
    for I ache towards healing.
Listen to my worried weariness,
    for my work matters much to me
    and needs help.
Listen to my tension,
    for I ache toward accepting who I am
        and who I cannot be.
Listen to my hunched back,
    For sometimes I can't bear
        the needs and demands of the world anymore
            and want to put it down,
                give it back to you.

Listen to my laughter,
    for there are friends
        and mercy
            and something urges me to thank.
Listen to my humming,
    for sometimes I catch all unaware
        the rhythms of creation
    and then music without words
                rises in me to meet it,
            and there is the joy of romping children
                and dancing angels.

Listen to my blinking eyes,
    for at certain moments
    when sunlight strikes just right,
    or stars pierce the darkness just enough,
    or clouds roll around just so,
    or snow kisses the world into quietness,
everything is suddenly transparent...
and something in me is pure enough
    for an instant
to see your kingdom in a glance,
and so to praise you in a gasp--
    quick,
        then gone,
            but it is enough.

Listen to me quickly, Lord.

--Ted Loder, "Guerrillas of Grace"