Prayer for Difficult Times

I’m learning softness is a discipline in its own right- though more subjective and internally-oriented than the fierce idealism of right action- it is equally vital to the process of realizing my potential.

 

Imposing more standards and expectations doesn’t compel my will to action, to be swept up in the winds of idealism; it guts any semblance of assurance I have left and leaves my reservoirs of worthiness to bleed out beneath the knife of ‘not enough.’ It is so humbling to watch my mental faculties scramble to relieve themselves of sitting still with this experience. Limitations rally instincts and scoff at patience. Already I am planning loftier goals, enticing projects to incite me to launch into a new cause, more glamourous ambitions.

Why is the solution to “I cannot” always “I must?”

Why is the cure for the pain always the pain?

The delusion is circumvention-the freedom, staying where ego bids I leave, forgiving what is limited, base, and secondary; I am not who I would like to be and this fissure is the cradle where my Maker does his work.

 

God:

Hold my pain for me.

Help me find beauty and worthiness here; help me let go of deeming or rejecting; help me unfold your graces in the impasse of my expectations and where I stand.
Help me find the soft edges of what feels burdensome and unrelenting-help me to pause in what prompts my aversion, help me to let go of doing in what calls out to me for patience.
Let me know your forgiveness: for what requires staying, for what agitates me to run, for what doesn’t budge under my best efforts.
For you I lay down my lashing and surrender to seconds I swore were too long for you to find me. Anything that breaks me is yours: each crack, your foothold, every agitation, your steward; let me know your strength in my restoration, my strength in your beholding me as a rightful daughter and heir to the heavens I renounced in my insistence I do not deserve, I do not deserve, I do not deserve.

Self-abasement is a ruse. Brokenness, a translucent shroud. What breaks me is destined to bring me back to love. Only love is real, this mattering, the only truth: I am yours.

Amen.

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