Ted Loder | There Is Something I Wanted to Tell You

Holy One,
there is something I wanted to tell you,
but there have been errands to run,
bills to pay,
arrangements to make,
meetings to attend,
friends to entertain,
washing to do...
and I forget what it is I wanted to say to you,
and mostly I forget what I’m about or why.
O God,
don’t forget me, please,
for the sake of Jesus Christ....

Eternal one,
there is something I wanted to tell you,
but my mind races with worrying and watching,
with weighing and planning,
with rutted slights and pothole grievances,
with leaky dreams
and leaky plumbing
and leaky relationships that I keep trying to plug up
and my attention is preoccupied with loneliness,
with doubt,
and with things I covet
and I forget what it is I want to say to you
and how to say it honestly
or how to do much of anything.
O God,
don’t forget me, please,
for the sake of Jesus Christ....

Almighty one there is something I wanted to ask you
but I stumble along the edge of a nameless rage,
haunted by a hundred floating fears,
of war,
of losing my job
of failing
of getting sick and old
having loved ones die
of dying
and I forget what it is the real question is I wanted to ask
and I forget to listen anyway because you seem unreal and far away
and I forget what it is I have forgotten.
O God,
don’t forget me, please,
for the sake of Jesus Christ....

Oh father in heaven perhaps you’ve already heard what I wanted to tell you.
What I wanted to ask in my blundering way is
don’t give up on me, don’t become too sad about me,
but laugh with me,
and try again with me,
and I will with you, too.
O Father in Heaven,
perhaps you’ve already heard what I wanted to tell you,
What I wanted to ask is,
forgive me,
heal me,
increase my courage, please.
Renew in me a little of love and faith,
and a sense of confidence,
and a vision of what it might mean to live as though you were real,
and I mattered,
and everyone was sister and brother.
What I wanted to ask is for peace enough, to want and work for more,
for joy enough to share
and for awareness that is keen enough to sense your presence
here,
now,
there,
then,
always.
Amen
— Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace, 66