On the wings of this present distress sent to me,
I lower my head with humility
and search for ways to understand.
I, no different; no less and no more
than any who have walked this earth before me,
must accept that what is asked of my mind and my health
is as unique as my own fingerprint,
or the sound of Your voice
calling my name.
Like the blind,
following a knotted rope,
I trust that You hold it tight
and that You await me
as I struggle with the rope
calling upon my faith,
and the vision of Your perfection;
the goal I seek to draw nearest.
In this illness,
and the pain which radiates from it,
my prayer now,
is that not a moment of this suffering be spent in vain,
and that, as it is offered up to You,
that acceptance and patience
might be my gift, this day;
allowing my life to change
as You might wish it to be.
My blindness healed,
my fingers, still gripping the rope,
and along the way
with my newly found sight,
I might recognize those
most like me,
and take my turn
gently guiding hands to the safety of knots on the rope.
Help me, oh Lord,
to accept this day, as only one in many,
and to accept my place in it
as you have dictated,
before time began.
Submitted to Catholic Prayers on January 30, 1996 by Margaret A. Davidson.
© 1996 by Margaret A. Davidson, All Rights Reserved