Help me to see.
See what you have given me.
Help me to cherish the days as they are.
Grey or blue, or inbetween.
As they come, to cherish them.
Help me to receive.
Receive what you've given me.
To accept all from your hand,
as it arrives with open palm.
Pleasure, or pain, my wishes tamed.
Help me to believe.
Believe you have my good at heart.
Trust you to never give
what will hurt irreparably, and only
to give what will serve to further me.
Help me to love.
Help me to love with true agape.
Not for gain, or even certainty;
but only to love for the good of the beloved,
because for me your love is enough.
Help me to rest.
Rest through fear and doubt, and frustration.
Rest through struggle, despair, temptation.
Rest my emotions and my will,
in the one who carries me still.
Help me to hear.
Hear above the din of others.
What you long for me to discover;
that you are speaking to me nigh incessently,
and your words are love unquestionably.
Help me to submit.
There is peace that flows like a river,
for the one who has given up.
Given up stubborn independence,
to depend on the one who delivers.
Delivers the day,
the minute, the hour
as a blessing, or a spring-time shower.
Not to harm or hinder or hurt,
but only to nourish the soul's parched earth.
Yet our souls,
they take umbrage.
With the hand that gives.
To ready to distrust the gift,
for its packaged as we cannot envisage.
We would return it,
or shape it as we expect it.
We would weigh it, and continually assess it.
Instead of going with the flow of his providence,
trusting that he knows what is best for us.
So help me to trust you Lord Jesus.
To see, to hear, believe.
To rest in you and receive what you've prepared.
To welcome all that's held in your hand today,
knowing that in true love its made.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Goat Island, New Zealand