Pry Me Off Dead Center




O persistent God,
deliver me from assuming your mercy is gentle,
    pressure me that it may grow more human,
    not through the lessening of my struggles,
    but through an expansion go them
    that will undamn me
    and unbury my gifts.
Deepen my hurt
    until I learn to share it
    and myself openly,
    and my needs honestly.
Sharpen my fears
    until I name them
    and release the power I have locked in them
    and they in me.
Accentuate my confusion
    until I shed those grandiose expectations
    that divert me from the small, glad gifts
    of the now and here and the me.
Expose my shame where it shivers,
    crouched behind the curtains of propriety,
    until I can laugh at last
    through my common frailties and failures,
    laugh my way toward becoming whole
Deliver me
    from just going through the motions
    and wasting everything I have
    which is today,
        a chance,
         a choice,
          my creativity,
           your call.
O persistent God
let how much it all matters
pry me off dead center
so if I am moved inside
    to tears
     or sighs
      or screams
       or smiles
        or dreams,
they will be real
and I will be in touch with who I am
and who you are
and who my sister and my brothers are.

            Ted Loder




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