I come to you weak

                                       God, I come to you weak and empty;           my prayers are thin and dry. My heart is hardly awake, nodding off,           my mind, divided and wandering. You receive my feeble, wayward prayers,           as if they are perfect and whole: “Beloved, your presence is all that I seek,           your presence alone my delight.”

O Steadfast One, my faith is fragile some days,           so easily traded for easy assurance, or even the sleep of not caring.           And you hold me as a newborn. “Beloved, your presence is all that I seek,           your presence alone my delight.”

O Mystery, some days it just is too hard,           to listen, to hear, to obey. And yet this cry in me, my very despair—           is your voice, your aching for me, your closing your hand about mine, weak and trembling,           your spirit embracing my own. “Beloved, your presence is all that I seek,           your presence alone my delight.”

My Lord, I do not know how to love,           but yours is the love that will save me. I do not know how to pray at all,           but I can sit in the light, and let your presence enfold me and hold me,           and let you answer me: “Beloved, your presence is all that I seek,           your presence alone my delight.”

__________________ Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net

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